The Grand Return

'What?! He's back already?!'

It was all that Nathalie could register in her mind, as much as she estimated he would come a few days later so she could start her preparations.

'Arnold came back too soon! Just how—?'

But just as well, the emotions that came from within rattled her composure.

Instead of her being able to see his face so clearly as he trudged from disbelief of the daughter that was right in front of him, she couldn't when her vision turned blurry. Her heart writhed in pain from the overwhelming sadness.

The chair Nathalie took a seat creaked as she tried to stand, palms propped on the table as she tried to stand her ground from her wobbling knees. It failed her to write mere words to greet him, but she had gone far too weak to do so.

'Father…' It was all she could mouth at him. The several words after it preferred left unspoken, when the silence now bore hiccups. Her chest tightened more than ever when she noticed his sudden thuds and spread his arms.

Now he got close with his face worn-out and rugged; eyes glistened as it contorted to a forlorn look. He said nothing and crashed at her with his tight embrace.

"Mysti, it's really you…" Arnold, amidst hugging her, almost clawed his fingers on her frail arms. Sniffing around his head before planting a big kiss caused him to break down and sobbed for all he cared.

Keith had already seen the same vulnerability Arnold evoked, but it wasn't the same for the rest, who witnessed the scene as of the moment. He could only glance at the cold floor—showing the reflections of once reunited father and daughter.

The Grand Duke of Blackwell's image of astuteness and nonchalance shattered right in front of them.

The maids were also brought to tears, covering their mouth as they tried to keep it low.

The footmen and the guards held for as long as they could.

Though, at the end of the day, he was still a father, with a daughter he had to raise into a fine young woman.

It was a bit weird for Nathalie to have this kind of feeling that bloomed, but she recognized the subconscious feeling.

'Do I… Really deserve this feeling?'

She never thought she would receive this much of paternal love, even if it weren't hers, to begin with, as she created him only but through her mind.

It was claustrophobic, but the kind of space so small that she would seek solace.

The hug took longer than she thought it would, and she couldn't help but raise her arms, trembling, and reached for his broad back.

Arnold's back stiffened, but this made him embrace her more. He snuggled and caressed her head faster than she thought.

"I was a fool. I couldn't even protect you—not even my wealth and power could save you from danger—"

All she did were soft pats that silenced him.

Her shoulders were beyond drenched, making her throat run too dry and coarse to utter such reassuring words.

"My daughter, My one and only Mysti, I thought I had lost you forever…" His patted back and continued as he couldn't believe a miracle happened in front of him. "I…"

Nathalie never said a word and only let out an inaudible hush, as though she would try to comfort him.

Her actions caused Arnold to snuggle deep and dug his hand with his hug. Soon as she started to squirm, he began to let go and took a good look at her frail figure.

"Look at my baby, so fragile a brittle glass would pale in comparison," he choked, gripping her shoulders tight. His auburn eyes scrutinized from top to bottom, then back to her fair countenance. "Is it really true you just woke up? Oh, my bad, I let it slip my mind, you're eating. Do you want to eat more? Come now, here, take a seat!"

His prattles went on as he moved his hand across several dishes, pushing them to hers. Moreover, he didn't spare picking up fruits and vegetables along the way. No one would deny he was the happiest in the whole world, all in smiles even amidst sniffing, and started to command a few maids and butlers for more food and other accommodations Mystique might need.

[Father…]

"Yes, Mysti?" Before she could even respond, he got taken aback by how worn-out his coat was and perhaps the muck on his hand and on his face. No different from beggars on the streets. He stole a glance from the dishes that had dirt stains against its white polished surfaces. "Right, I have to go freshen up; I know you hate dirty—"

[No, Father,] she responded, cutting him off, and drew close to him. She reached for his hand, palms too dirty and callused. "[I don't need more food; I don't need anything. I'm happy that you're back safe and sound.]

Arnold took a hard gulp before his lips parted with a tremble; he started to stammer with eyes on the verge of tears again. Before any ounce of it could drop, he wiped them off.

Her words quirked his mouth up, ear to ear.

The two, hence, hugged each other like there was no tomorrow.

In the middle of the hug, she gazed at another familiar man that was several feet away from him, the person, who accompanied Arnold on his several trips.

'Theodore?'

But she snapped out from her shocking trance when Arnold spoke out of his woes again.

"I don't even know who to thank, but it was great news to me. Alas, the weight now lifted off my chest." Arnold hugged her again. His sniffs and sobs landed another lap of dampness on her fair shoulders. "I thought I would lose another family member that I hold dear."

[Father, I'm alright now, okay? And don't cry too much; you can't look uglier as you could ever be.]

Arnold broke free with his face bereft with life and stared back in shock. "How could my daughter say such a thing, so hurtful? This isn't like you—"

[You aren't like that either. Father is valiant and strong; look at your face, not any uglier than cry baby—]

"You dare say that—"

[I just did.]