A figure came sprinting into view—a young man, in his mid-twenties, wearing dark robes that were too big for him and looked like they'd been slept in. His brown hair stuck up in several directions, his eyes were wild and bloodshot. He skidded to a stop in front of us, nearly tripping over his own robes, and immediately dropped into a bow so deep his forehead almost hit the floor.

  "Master! Thank the God you're back! His Majesty, he was threatening to—we thought—Katelyn said you might not come back in time and we'd all be—"

  The man holding her, didn't even glance at him. "Kofery." Just the one word.

  The young man, Kofery, straightened up, breathing hard and his hands clasped in front of him like he was praying.

  "Yes, Master! I—we were so worried—the king sent three messengers and—" He stopped mid-sentence. His eyes had landed on the baby in his Master's arms.

  "Master," he said carefully, like he was trying very hard not to say the wrong thing. "Who... who is..."

  Kofery looked like he was going to be sick. "Master, that's a human baby. Please... please... tell me you're not planning to experiment on it."

  A pause. Her father's expression didn't change at all.

  "Should I?"

  "NO!"

  THANK YOU, KOFERY! GOOD MAN! I LIKE YOU ALREADY!

  Kofery took a step forward, his hands reaching out tentatively. "May I... may I see?"

  Her father handed her over without hesitation. Kofery took her gently like she was made of glass and might shatter at the slightest pressure. His hands were warm, and he cradled her against his chest naturally that suggested he actually understood what babies needed. He looked down at her, and his expression softened immediately.

  "Oh," he breathed. "Oh, she's..."

  He trailed off, staring at the mark on her forehead. The crescent moon glowing faintly red against her skin. His face lost what little color it had left.

  "Master," he said quietly, not looking up. "This mark. This is..."

  Her father didn't answer. Just watching Kofery's reaction with mild interest.

  Kofery slowly looked up at him. "This is your mark," he whispered.

  Her father reached up and brushed his hair back from his forehead. A mark identical to hers. Red crescent moon, glowing faintly in the dim light.

  So it's a family thing. A bloodline marker, huh. Interesting.

  Her father let his hair fall back over his forehead, covering the mark again.

  "Yes," he said simply.

  Kofery looked back down at her. "She's... she's yours."

  "Regrettably."

  STOP SAYING THAT.

  "Master, this is—this is incredible! You have a daughter! A child! Do you know what this means?!"

  "It means I now have a responsibility I didn't ask for."

  "It means you have a family!"

  Something flickered across her father's face. What was that? Surprise? Discomfort? Longing? It was gone before she could pin it down.

  "What’s her name master?"

  "She doesn't have one." he said.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Kofery blinked. "You... you didn't name her?"

  "Her mother left before that particular detail came up."

  Kofery stared at him, then looked back down at her with an expression that was concern, and complete bewilderment.

  "Well," he said softly, adjusting his hold to make her more comfortable, "we'll figure it out. Right, little one?"

  She stared up at him. Kind eyes. Brown. Warm. Worried but hopeful. Okay. Score so far:

  Father: Powerful, handsome, emotionally constipated, called me ugly, called me a thing, said having me was unfortunate. 2/10.

  Kofery: Gentle, concerned, defended me from experiments, knows how to hold a baby. 10/10. You're my favorite.

  Kofery smiled at her. "Welcome home," he said quietly. Then he paused. "Well. Not home, exactly. Welcome to the Mage Tower."

  MAGE TOWER?! So my father is a mage? No. Wait. He just teleported us here and incinerated goblins with one word, so obviously he's a mage, but he has his own tower?

  Before she could process this further, the sound of footsteps echoed through the vast space. A man appeared from between two floating bookshelves.

  He was older than Kofery, with silver-gray hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and a beard trimmed. He wore robes in deep blue and gold, embroidered with various symbols. Everything about him screamed important official.

  He stopped a respectful distance away and bowed. "Greetings, Archmage. As you are well aware, His Majesty's patience is... limited. I'm certain you understand his frustration at your prolonged absence."

  ARCHMAGE?! That's like... that's top tier. That's end-game level magic user.

  Her father's expression didn't change.

  "Hmm," he said. "Poor patience."

  The official shifted slightly, maintaining his diplomatic smile. "His Majesty has been waiting for three days, Archmage. The matter of the northern border defenses—"

  "Tell His Majesty," her father interrupted, "that I'll return when I'm ready."

  The official's smile tightened. "Of course, Archmage. However, His Majesty specifically requested—"

  Her father raised one hand. The official stopped talking, moving and even breathing. He rose slowly into the air, feet leaving the ground, arms pinned to his sides by invisible force. His eyes went wide.

  Her father tilted his head slightly. "Poor patience," he repeated thoughtfully. "You know, I find that interesting. His Majesty has poor patience, apparently. How unfortunate."

  The official tried to speak but nothing came out.

  "Because I," her father continued, his voice never rising above conversational volume, "have zero patience for nonsense."

  He paused, then said, "Tell His Majesty to work on building that patience before I return. Tell him I'm currently occupied with personal matters. And also inform him that if he sends another messenger before I'm ready, I'll send that messenger back in multiple pieces."

  The official's face was turning purple.

  "Are we clear?"

  A strangled sound emerged from the man's throat. It might have been agreement.

  Her father smiled and snapped his fingers. Snap. And the official vanished.

  Kofery stood frozen, still holding her, staring at the empty space where the man had been.

  Her father turned to him. "Can't even handle this much," he said mildly. "Cut off this month's bonus."

  "What?!" Kofery's voice cracked. "No! Master, please! Not the bonus! Anything but that! I have rent! I have—"

  He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes landing on her again. Some of the panic faded from his face, replaced by wonder. "A baby," he whispered. He looked up at her father. "How? When? With who? Master, you don't even—I mean, I've never seen you show interest in anyone. How is this even possible?"

  Her father ignored the question completely. He stepped closer, and Kofery instinctively shifted, as if to protect her.

  Her father's red eyes focused on her forehead specifically. He reached out and brushed a strand of silver hair away from the crescent moon mark. A red glow began to emanate from his own forehead as his mark became visible again through his hair.

  "Too conspicuous," he murmured. "You'll draw unwanted attention."

  He pressed his forehead against hers. The moment their marks touched, light exploded behind her eyes. Warmth flooded through her. She felt something shift inside her, like puzzle pieces clicking into place. Words echoed in her mind, in a voice that was her father's but also... not.

  "Sleep, little moon. Until you're ready."

  The light faded. Her father pulled back, and when she tried to focus on him, his features were blurry. Her eyelids were so heavy.

  "Now you look better," he said. "Away from causing more trouble."

  He turned to Kofery. "Feed that thing whatever it eats."

  He called me thing again. I'm keeping track. We're at three now.

  And then he was walking away, his footsteps fading into the maze of floating books and stairs.

  She lay in Kofery's arms. Kofery looked down at her, his expression torn between joy and terror.

  "Hi, little one," he said softly. "I'm Kofery. I know your father is... well. He's a lot. But I promise I'll help. You won't be alone here, okay?"

  He started walking, cradling her gently. "Let's find you some food. I have no idea what babies eat. Milk? Do we have milk? Where do you even get milk? Can we conjure milk? Is that safe?"

  He was talking to himself more than to her now, his voice a comforting murmur as he navigated through the maze of books.

  She wanted to stay awake. Wanted to see more of this place and understand what had just happened when her father touched their marks together.

  But her baby body had limits. Her eyes drifted closed. The last thing she heard was Kofery's voice:

  "Don't worry, little moon. We'll figure this out together."

  Little moon. That's... that's nice actually. Better than "that thing" at least.

  And then sleep claimed her into dreams where books floated and a very annoyed truck was waiting.