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The salt air of the ship seeped in her poor dolls’ fabric and gave them a rank, salty musk that Milsiril did not care for but it would be worth it. She’d never admit out loud that she had a favorite child (what sort of mother would that make her?) but for now, that secret honor was definitely bestowed to Kabru. He was certainly among the cutest of the children she’d taken in over the years, with those pretty curls and bright blue eyes. She smiled to herself thinking about it now, how much she was going to pinch those handsome, boyish cheeks of his and squeeze him in a hug once she got to his new home.
It was sad that he’d moved out and she’d prefer that he just come home (he was still so young, after all) but she was nothing if not compromising. Especially with Kabru, that rascal. Why he had ever wanted to leave home to go into dungeons is something she’d never understand, but at least he stopped. Now he had a brand new job— advisor to a king! She was so proud. It was important that she go and support him in this big change during his short life, so here she was, sailing across the sea, ready to greet him.
The ship was not the end— the kingdom was no longer an island but instead a vast land that Milsiril occasionally saw through the window of the carriage she hired. It looked a little quaint, not quite enough for her boy, but it had only just come into existence. Not to mention the king was a tallman. No doubt he had no vision of what could really be done with the place. Milsiril had ideas. She’d tell them to Kabru over dinner when she got there. That was bound to be fun. Despite its infancy, the kingdom already had quite the bustling food culture supposedly.
When she finally reached the main city, Milsiril made a beeline straight for Kabru’s house. They could sightsee together later. The sun was on its way to setting and a mage wandered the streets, lighting posts as stall vendors set up for the evening. She had to stop herself from getting distracted, watching a little half-foot struggle to put up a curtain for their cart. This place was no elven city, that was for sure, but it was cute. She’d give it that.
Kabru had sent a few letters since his job started and Milsiril took one of them out of her pocket, comparing the address on it to the place in front of her. It was so small compared to her (and Kabru’s) home, but this was his first house after all. Once he was more settled, surely he’d move into something bigger. Or maybe that king wasn’t paying him well enough? She’d have to have a word with him, if that was the case.
Taking a deep breath, Milsiril walked up to the door and knocked. Footsteps on the other side made her smile excitedly and throw her arms open, ready to hug Kabru the moment he opened the door.
“Kabru!” she cooed, but froze before she actually stepped through the open doorway because the man in front of her was not her beloved baby boy.
“No,” the man said, his dull black eyes blinking at her. Or, just one eye, the other still as droopy and off-putting as the last time she saw him. It’d been such a long time but… that’s right. The Canaries had been disbanded and some of them had been asked to serve as diplomats in this new kingdom. Specifically a young woman named Pattadol and—
“Mithrun!” Kabru’s voice sounded from somewhere deeper inside the house. “Who’s at the—” Finally he appeared from around a corner and caught sight of Milsiril. All her excitement from earlier returned and she squealed, pushing past Mithrun to get to Kabru. He let out an “oof!” of surprise as she barreled into him and wrapped him in a hug.
“Oh, honey, you’ve gotten so tall!” she whined. She’d have to wait for him to sit down if she wanted to nuzzle into his curls like she used to.
“Milsiril!” Kabru chuckled, lightly returning the hug. “Wow, this is… I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Didn’t you get my letter?” Milsiril frowned. “I told you I was planning on visiting soon.”
“That– You sent that over a year ago.”
“I know! It was so hard to organize a last-minute trip here but I’ve missed you so much that I couldn’t wait another month!” She sighed and pulled back from the hug so she could cup his face in her hands and smiled warmly. “You’re so grown up now, with your own house and job..!”
On that note, Milsiril remembered they weren’t alone. She glanced over her shoulder at Mithrun. He was just standing there, watching them blankly, hand still on the handle of the open door. She tried her best not to grimace. Her good mood and time with her little boy wouldn’t be ruined thinking about him, the horrors she’d endured when helping with his rehabilitation.
“I’m sorry to have interrupted any diplomatic business you two might’ve been discussing, Lord Mithrun,” Milsiril said. “I trust it can wait until later though? I’ve had a long journey here and I want to catch up with my son.” She shot him a pointed look and even nodded her head a little at him, knowing his reluctance to do literally anything. A lack of desire would do that to a human.
“I’m not here on business,” Mithrun said. His tone was flat and face as expressionless as ever, but the slight tilt of his head had a sense of… confusion? Amusement?
“Yeah, no, he’s not…” Kabru sighed and took Milsiril’s hands off his face as he went to close his door. He looked over at Milsiril and put a hand over his mouth, obviously thinking about something. She wished he wouldn’t. He had such an adorable pout whenever he was thinking.
“I live here,” Mithrun said, unprompted, seemingly to Kabru’s surprise. Milsiril was more surprised with what he’d said.
“You live here? In Kabru’s house?” She was horrified when he nodded. “Wha– No, that can’t be– I know this kingdom is new but have they really not built enough houses that people need to room together?”
“It’s not that new.” Kabru furrowed his brow. “Laios was crowned almost six years ago at this point.” Misiril pursed her lips. Only six years? Maybe they really didn’t have enough houses.
“Kabru. The kitchen.” Mithrun’s gaze had shifted to where Kabru had come from (the kitchen, apparently) and Milsiril suddenly picked up on what Mithrun already had— a faint burning smell. Kabru cursed quietly and rushed back to whatever he had apparently been cooking. Mithrun followed behind him, but at a much slower pace. He paused in front of Milsiril and turned to her.
“We’re having dinner. Join us.”
Dinner was some kind of noodles, slathered in a thick meat sauce with a side of salad that Kabru had quickly thrown together since the noodles had to be re-proportioned from two servings to three. Milsiril had watched, dumbfounded, as both he and Mithrun moved around the kitchen, picking vegetables from a patch outside and cutting them up. No words spoken between them the entire time, but they understood each other perfectly. Milsiril stood up from the kitchen chair she’d been sat at at one point, her and two of her dolls tiptoeing over to help, but Kabru ushered her right back to her seat.
“It’ll be ready soon,” he assured her. “You said you had a long journey, right? Just relax then, we’ve got this.”
And so she went back to sitting, trying to figure out what exactly was going on with the way her little Kabru would smile so softly at Mithrun, side glances entirely unprompted. Even more confusing, Mithrun seemed to return those smiles for a flash of a second.
“I hope you like it, Milsiril,” Kabru said when he placed the plate in front of her. “We’re not as good as a lot of the cooks in the area, but trust me, we’re a lot better than we used to be.”
“We?” She glanced at Mithrun.
“I made the noodles,” Mithrun said, idly mixing his dish together.
“And grew the vegetables,” Kabru added as he sat down across from him.
“Mm. Had to find some use for the scraps.” Such a bland and straightforward reply somehow made Kabru break into a huge grin, dimples shallowly dotting his cheeks. Milsiril smiled in spite of her confusion. She could at least appreciate how adorable Kabru was.
“So, Kabru!” Milsiril brightened as his attention turned back to her. “How’s your new job going? Are you adjusting okay?”
“It was rough at the beginning,” Kabru admitted, swallowing the bite of food he’d just taken. “But like I said earlier, it’s been nearly six years. Everyone’s really started to settle into their roles.”
“That’s good,” Milsiril hummed, though she felt like six years wasn’t nearly enough time to settle in. Then again, Kabru had always moved fast, the little go-getter. “Well, if it ever gets too overwhelming, you can always come back home. Take some time to figure things out. I’ve kept your bedroom exactly how you left it.”
“Thank you, Milsiril, really,” Kabru said, giving her a closed-lip smile. “I think I’ll be okay though.”
“If you’re sure…” she said in a bit of a sing-songy disbelieving tone. “I just don’t want you to overwork yourself, Kabru. I mean, it already seems like work follows you home.” She gestured to Mithrun, who’d been sitting and eating quietly the whole time.
“I already told you, that’s not— oh.” Kabru chuckled as his gaze shifted back to Mithrun. “Your hair… here, let me.” He reached across the table and gently tucked Mithrun’s hair behind his ears, removing the strands that had gotten into his mouth. Milsiril shuddered. Those torn ears had always unsettled her even more than his inky eye when she’d helped with his rehabilitation. That’s when things clicked into place and she gasped.
“Don’t tell me— are you Mithrun’s caretaker, Kabru?!”
“… I take care of him,” Kabru said, his mouth twitching just slightly like he was annoyed for some reason. “But that’s not—”
“Don’t worry, I understand completely,” Milsiril said. She took Kabru’s hands in her own and squeezed them sympathetically. “You know, I did that once too. Around the time I got you, actually.”
“I know,” Kabru nodded. “Mithrun told me you were one of the only former Canaries that came to see him.”
“Of course I did. I felt bad!” Milsiril felt her ears droop as she remembered the guilt she carried. “I used to think, if only we’d spoken more when we worked together, he wouldn’t have become a dungeon lord, or at least not one with such an awful, twisted dungeon. It was horrific, honestly, the way—”
“Milsiril.” The sharpness in Kabru’s tone startled her. “I don’t know if Mithrun wants to hear about that.”
“Well, yes, honey, he doesn’t want anything,” Milsiril nodded understandingly. “Because of the demon.”
“I know.”
“Right. You’re taking care of him, I’m sure someone explained it to you. He seems to be doing much better now though!” She glanced over at Mithrun as he took a bite of a tomato. Last she’d seen him, he’d basically needed to be hand fed, though she never actually did that. Her dolls took on that burden instead, and all the others like making sure he washed himself and dressed.
“He is,” Kabru murmured, also looking over at Mithrun. There was a lot of pride in his voice and… something else. Milsiril couldn’t be sure what.
“Thanks to you,” Mithrun said and Milsiril couldn’t not notice the faint blush that dusted Kabru’s cheeks. He must be embarrassed, being complimented in front of her. What a modest boy. She’d raised him so well.
“You know, he’s always had such a big heart,” Milsiril gushed. “And a way with people! Like that little girl, Lin—”
“Rin,” Kabru corrected.
“Rin, yes. How is she? Are you two still friends?”
“We are. I try to make time to see her at least once a week.”
“That’s good! You two were always so precious when you played together.” Milsiril giggled fondly as she remembered. “I sometimes pictured you getting married when you grew up.”
“Me and Rin?” Kabru laughed. “No way, she’s like a big sister to me!”
“You never know!” Milsiril teased. “Once you’re older, maybe you’ll start to see her differently!”
Kabru paused in his laughter, processing something, then shook his head. “I’m already 28. I don’t think age is going to change how I see her at this point. Besides, I’m… kind of seeing someone already.”
Now this was news to Milsiril. Her eyes widened excitedly and her mind began racing, already imagining Kabru on his wedding day. She’d dress him in the handsomest clothes ever, probably laced with gold and ribbons. Maybe something dark to make his eyes really stand out, like sapphires set against black velvet. It could even be black velvet. No— she couldn’t get too ahead of herself. Who he was marrying was just as important. Their outfits would have to match, after all.
“You really are growing up so fast..!” Milsiril pet Kabru’s cheek with the back of her finger. He avoided her eyes like a guilty child. “I’m happy for you, Kabru. You deserve someone who can appreciate what an incredible young man you’re becoming.”
“I think I have.” Kabru still wouldn’t look at her, his eyes focused somewhere to her left instead. So cute, how embarrassed he was.
“Well,” Milsiril winked, “if that’s the case, I better be able to meet this special someone while I’m here.” Finally Kabru’s eyes were back on her, wide enough that she could see just how bright and sparkling they were. His thick lashes blinked as he slowly opened his mouth, letting out short, awkward chuckles.
“You… already have, actually.”
“Really?” Milsiril pouted, confused. Had he been lying about Rin earlier? Probably not, but she didn’t think she’d met any of his other friends before. She wracked her brain trying to think. Could it have been someone she passed on the street? But then how would Kabru know she saw them? No one had come to the door to deliver a message all evening. In fact, there hadn’t been anyone besides her and Kabru and—
Milsiril froze, a realization that she was none too fond of seizing her. Terrified to confirm it but too curious for the answer, she turned ever so slowly towards the third person at the table. That slight head tilt from earlier was back and now she definitely knew it to be amusement.
Mithrun.
“Him?” she squeaked.
“Yes,” Kabru unfortunately confirmed. “Milsiril, meet… or, re-meet my partner, Mithrun.”
This had to be some kind of joke. Her beautiful, perfect son couldn’t have fallen for Mithrun. Not the same one she’d worked alongside years ago, who’d built a dungeon of hatred and jealousy, who’d needed to be forced to eat and bathe after he lost that dungeon along with any desire. Surely Kabru knew as his caretaker that Mithrun had lost the drive to do anything. How could he ever smother Kabru with all the affection that he deserved?
As if sensing her spiraling, Mithrun reached out and touched her arm. Milsiril tensed, still regarding him suspiciously, but she didn’t pull away. His fingertips pressed into her, ever so lightly and… was that meant to be a squeeze? Of reassurance? Understanding? Any sort of emotion she never expected out of him?
“While we’re on the subject…” Mithrun withdrew his touch so he could reach across the table. Kabru immediately met him, tenderly cradling his hands and leaning towards him, focused.
“The subject?” Kabru asked. He ran a thumb over the top of Mithrun’s fingers that curled in his palm.
“Of marriage,” Mithrun clarified. “Kabru. I want to marry you.”
“You do?!” For the first time that evening, mother and son were on the same page, shocked at this confession.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Mithrun nodded. “It’s a new desire that’s manifested some time within the past year. You’re almost halfway through your life, as a tallman. I would like to get married to you while we still can. If that’s something you desire as well.”
“It is.” Kabru spoke without a moment's hesitation, tightening his grip on Mithrun’s hands. “Of course it is.”
Milsiril jumped slightly in her seat as Mithrun’s gaze shifted over to her. For a moment she felt a surge of anger, thinking this was some sort of power play, until she realized there was no malice in it at all. The opposite, in fact— he wanted her approval. He… wanted. And Kabru clearly wanted him. It was love that she’d heard earlier in his voice. She was sure of it now. And what sort of mother would stand in the way of her favorite child and happiness like that?
Milsiril smiled softly and took a bite of the noodles in front her. Not what she had expected, but she had to admit— they were better than she thought they’d be.