<h4>Chapter 212: A United Forte</h4>


    <strong><i>(Third Person).</i></strong>


    The soft knock on Meredith’s bedroom door came just as Kira was setting down the final brush from fixing her hair.


    Next came the sound of the door opening, followed by its shutting a few secondster.


    Just then, Cora stepped into the dressing room and announced, "Mydy, Xamira is here to see you."


    Meredith blinked in surprise. "Xamira?"


    Kira exchanged a brief nce with Azul, both of them just as curious.


    Meredith rose from the cushioned stool in front of her mirror and stepped into her bedroom. Then, she moved to the door herself.


    As she pulled it open, there stood Xamira—tiny, in a pale blue dress with silver thread, her dark curls pinned neatly, and her hands tightly sped in front of her.


    Her eyes, usually wide and full of fire, now carried a nervous weight. Her nanny stood respectfully behind her, offering Meredith a silent bow.


    Xamira dipped into a short, slightly wobbly curtsy. "Good morning, mydy."


    Meredith’s lips quirked into a faint smile. The formality was unexpected... and clearly rehearsed.


    "Good morning, Xamira," Meredith replied gently, stepping aside. "Come in."


    The little girl took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Her nanny remained at the threshold.


    "I... I came to say I’m sorry," Xamira said, looking everywhere but Meredith’s eyes. "For being rude to you before... and for pushing you into the pool. That was very bad. I know now that I could have hurt you. Really hurt you."


    Meredith’s heart softened instantly. Xamira’s small fists were clenched again at her sides, and she was blinking rapidly, as if she had more she wanted to say but wasn’t sure how to say it.


    "And..." Xamira added quickly, lifting her chin with as much confidence as her tiny frame could muster, "Thank you for talking to my Daddy and making him stop being mad at me. I missed sitting at the table."


    There was something achingly sincere about the way she said it.


    Meredith knelt down until they were eye-level, and then she reached out and gently took one of Xamira’s little hands.


    "Apology epted," she said, her voice warm. "Thank you for being brave enough toe and say it."


    A breath of relief left the child’s lips, and her shoulders visibly dropped. For a heartbeat, she looked like she might leap into Meredith’s arms, but instead, she just gave a toothy grin and nodded.


    "I really am sorry," she said again.


    "I believe you," Meredith replied.


    A knock of soft heels echoed from behind them as Azul stepped closer. "Mydy, we should head down if we don’t want to keep the Alpha waiting."


    Meredith stood, brushing invisible dust from her gown. "Then let’s go."


    She offered her hand to Xamira, who eagerly grabbed it, her small fingers warm and secure around Meredith’s.


    And so, they left the room together.


    ---


    The soft chatter in the dining hall came to an abrupt pause when the doors opened.


    All heads turned.


    Meredith walked in with calm poise. But it wasn’t just her appearance that drew eyes—it was the small hand she held firmly in her own.


    Xamira.


    The child matched her steps, her free hand curled around the soft hem of her dress, her little faceposed, though the edges of her mouth betrayed the hint of a smile.


    At the table, Wanda nearly dropped her spoon.


    Shock swept over her face in waves—first confusion, then disbelief, and finally, a thin veil of forcedposure.


    She blinked rapidly, eyes darting between Meredith and the girl who onlyst night was still supposedly in exile from the dining table.


    Dennis blinked as well, brows lifted in pleasant surprise. "Well, would you look at that," he murmured under his breath, grinning.


    Jeffery looked up from his te, visibly surprised, though he quickly masked it and resumed chewing.


    Meredith’s gaze found Draven, who was already seated at the head of the table. She offered a polite nod, and Xamira did the same with a shy, mumbled "Good morning, Daddy."


    Draven’s expression remained unreadable at first—until he set down his cup and spoke. "From now on, Xamira sits beside my wife at this table."


    Dennis, who always sat at Meredith’s right, let out a short, amused chuckle. "Well, that’s my cue."


    He stood smoothly and moved one seat over, still wearing his grin.


    Meredith slid into her seat gracefully, and Xamira climbed into the chair beside her.


    Dennis took the next seat to Xamira’s right, folding his arms and ncing between the two females now sandwiched between him and his brother.


    Wanda’s knuckles whitened around her utensils. She forced a smile and leaned ever so slightly forward.


    "Good morning, little one," she cooed in a soft tone meant to sound warm.


    Xamira didn’t respond.


    The child didn’t frown or scowl—she simply turned her head toward Wanda and stared with a nk, almost distant expression.


    Wanda faltered, her smile twitching. She quickly looked away, grabbing her ss with too much force.


    The clink echoed louder than it should have, but no one seemed to notice—except Meredith, who was already spooning some fruit sd onto Xamira’s te and pretending not to smirk.


    The tension dissolved as breakfast was served—fluffy eggs, berry scones, smoked meats, and fresh breads.


    The scent filled the hall, drawing satisfied sighs from more than one guest.


    Meredith leaned toward Xamira. "Would you like more eggs?"


    Xamira nodded, and Meredith carefully scooped another spoonful onto her te, cing it just beside the slices of buttered toast.


    "You want some jam, kiddo?" Dennis asked with a wink.


    "Yes, please," Xamira whispered, smiling now.


    Dennis passed it to her with a proud, over-the-top flourish that made her giggle softly.


    "Well, now," Dennis said dramatically, "I hope my seat won’t get moved again tomorrow. I might get relocated out of the hall at this rate."


    Draven’s lips twitched. "Then perhaps you should stop dying and marry. Start a family. Then your own children can move you out of your seat."


    Laughter bubbled from Dennis and Jeffery both.


    "Touché," Dennis said, raising his cup toward his brother before taking a sip.


    Even Xamira chuckled again, clinging to her cup with both tiny hands.


    Wanda stabbed a piece of pancake with more force than necessary, her smile long gone.


    The rest of the table basked in a light, warm air of togetherness—except her.