Transmigrated Into a Cannon Fodder Phoenix, Stuck With the Ice Dragon-Chapter 109: Half Phoenix, Half Dragon

Lady Arienne did not answer him at once.

For a moment, she only looked at him, as if committing every line of his face to memory. Then her fingers tightened slightly around his hand, the warmth in them faint but real.

"I would still choose the same fate," she said softly.

Lucian’s breath hitched.

"Even knowing how it would end?" he asked.

She smiled, small and tired, but absolutely certain.

"Even then."

Her thumb brushed lightly over his knuckles. "Because if I changed it... if I walked away from that path... I would not have you." Her voice wavered for just a second before steadying again. "No pain in my life is greater than the thought of a world where you do not exist."

Lucian lowered his head, his grip tightening around her hand.

"Our marriage was not perfect. It was not gentle. It was not kind," she admitted quietly. "But you... having you... were my miracle in the middle of all that chaos."

She lifted his chin gently, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"So if fate asked me again, I would walk the same road. I would endure the same storms. I would make the same choices... just to reach you."

"Mother..." His brows drew together. Instead of comfort, a knot of frustration tightened in his chest.

He lowered his gaze, jaw set. "That’s exactly what I’m afraid of," he confessed quietly. "That loving someone means accepting a fate that breaks you in the end. Choosing someone means destroying yourself piece by piece for them."

Lady Arienne studied him for a long moment, then shook her head slowly.

"No," she said. "Loving someone does not mean you are meant to suffer forever. It means you are willing to suffer for a while... so they don’t have to." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Lucian looked up.

"There is a difference between sacrifice and destruction, my son," she continued. "I sacrificed. But I also lived. I still laughed. I still had you. Do not confuse pain in the past with a sentence for your future."

Her hand squeezed his again, gentle but firm.

"You are not repeating my story," she said softly. "You are writing your own. And you still have the chance to make it kinder than mine."

Ena, the head maid, suddenly knocked on the door, then slipped into the room, her expression carefully neutral but her eyes betrayed her.

"My lord... my lady," she said softly. "Lady Seraphina is awake. She asked for something to eat, but..." she hesitated, choosing her words carefully, "something isn’t right."

Lucian’s body went rigid. "What do you mean, not right?"

Ena clasped her hands in front of her apron. "She hasn’t touched the food. She just sits there, staring at it. When I tried to speak to her, she looked at me like she wasn’t fully here." Her voice lowered. "It frightened me, my lord."

Lucian turned immediately to his mother’s chair and gently pushed her aside for the servants to take over. Then he reached for the wheelchair beside her himself, "Show me."

He pushed the wheelchair down the corridor with quick, controlled strides.

When he arrived, he opened the door without knocking.

"Mother," He looked at her as they stopped at the door.

Arienne just nodded in understanding, "I will go back to my room first. When she is ready, let me meet her..." She then hinted to the maid to push her back to the room.

Lucian continued walking toward the bed as he saw Seraphina sitting on the bed with a tray in front of her, untouched.

"Hey..." He walked over and carefully sat down on the edge of the mattress. "Do you want something else?"

She lifted her eyes to him and managed a faint smile. "Where were you?"

"I was talking with my mother," he replied softly. "Is something wrong? Was the food not to your taste? I can have them change it if you want."

She shook her head lightly. "No... I was just wondering." Her lips curved again, a little wider this time. "You know, this might sound silly, but something crossed my mind..."

Lucian slipped his fingers around hers and gave a gentle smile. "What is it? What could possibly be funny enough to make my wife smile like this?"

She blinked once, then looked at him with an oddly bright expression.

"You know... I don’t know why, but I suddenly wondered what our baby would have looked like. I mean... obviously, it would look like us." She paused, then added almost thoughtfully, "But would it be half-phoenix and half-dragon? Doesn’t that sound kind of fascinating?"

Her eyes were shining.

But the quiet in the room knew better.

Lucian only managed a tight, awkward smile.

She went on anyway, like she couldn’t stop herself.

"You know... we’re the first dragon and phoenix couple, right? So technically... there’s never been a mix like that before?"

Her voice was light but every word landed heavy.

Lucian’s fingers tightened around hers just a little.

"Seraphina..." he murmured, his voice low, almost unsteady.

She didn’t look at him. She kept staring at the food tray as if she might see the answer there instead.

"I keep thinking about it," she said quietly. "Things that don’t make sense. Things that don’t matter anymore, but my head won’t stop going anyway." Her lips curved again, but it wasn’t really a smile this time. "It’s funny how the mind works, right? It keeps pretending there’s still a tomorrow planned."

Lucian lifted his hands and gently cupped her cheeks, guiding her face toward his.

"Hey," he whispered, his forehead resting lightly against hers. "This isn’t the end of our story. And someday... when you’re ready... when the world finally gives us peace instead of pain..." His thumb brushed warmly under her eye. "I’m sure if we ever have a child again, they’ll be just as beautiful as you."

Seraphina didn’t reply at once.

She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart as if it were the only thing anchoring her to this world.

"How about the one we lost?" she murmured softly. "Who do you think our baby would have looked like?"

The question dropped into the room like a stone into still water.

Silence followed, thick, heavy and unbearable as the weight of their loss settled over everyone who heard it.