It had been a week.
Seven days of waking up early with legs that protested every step, lungs that screamed with every breath, and arms that felt like lead by the end of each session. But Luna had kept at it—jogging, breathing, massaging sore muscles, showing up for therapy, and most of all, showing up for herself.
Today, finally, she stood her ground.
Cherry's hand had sliced through the air, precise as always, a blur of intention and control. Luna didn't flinch. She shifted—awkwardly, not gracefully—but enough. Cherry's blow grazed past her shoulder instead of knocking her down.
And when Cherry pivoted for the next strike, Luna blocked. Sloppy. Desperate. But solid.
She was still hit, of course. Thrown off balance. But she didn't fall.
And by the end of the session, she was still standing—wobbling, drenched in sweat, heart racing—but upright.
The dining room was warm, filled with the smell of roast and soft candlelight. Luna was slouched in her chair, half-covered in a fluffy cardigan, her hair damp from a rushed post-training shower.
Emmerich placed another helping of grilled vegetables on her plate with a soft smile. "You're glowing," he said, eyes gleaming.
"I didn't fall today." Luna lifted her fork like a trophy. "Cherry came at me like an angry ghost from a martial arts movie, and I didn't fall."
Emmerich laughed, the sound deep and genuine. "That's incredible."
"She still knocked the wind out of me," Luna added proudly, "but I stayed up. It's a miracle."
"And therapy?" he asked gently.
Luna chewed thoughtfully before answering. "Good. Dr. Falne says I'm processing things better. I'm starting to catch myself before spiraling. Still shaky, but…" she took a breath, "better."
Emmerich's eyes shimmered. "You've come far."
Luna poked at her food, then set her fork down. "I just don't want to waste what people did to keep me alive… what they gave."
Emmerich leaned forward, listening.
"I promised to be worthy of their sacrifice, so of course, I'm doing everything I can to keep that promise."
There was silence for a beat.
Then Emmerich reached out and gently squeezed her hand.
"You already are."
She smiled.
"Don't tell Cherry I said this," she whispered with mock seriousness, "but her ninja boot camp is working."
"I'll take it to my grave," Emmerich promised with a chuckle, his voice warm with pride.
Another week passed, and Luna could feel the shift—not just in her muscles, but in her mindset. Her body still ached, but now it pulsed with something new: endurance.
Cherry remained a relentless force, each session as ruthless as the first. But now, Luna could stand firm by the end. She no longer felt like a leaf in a storm. She blocked—barely. She dodged awkwardly. And today, she attacked.
For one whole minute, she moved like she meant it. Eyes sharp. Feet steady. Breath controlled. She even made Cherry blink in mild surprise as she kept going, not falling, not backing down.
"You lasted a full minute," Cherry said when it ended, dusting her hands. "Progress."
From Cherry, it might as well have been an award.
Luna grinned cheekily.
That night at dinner, Emmerich handed Luna her usual after-meal folder—a few neatly bound pages with summaries of recent logistics and key management tasks, his way of slowly immersing her into the operations he oversaw.
"Tonight's lesson: recognizing buried red flags in reports," Emmerich said with a small grin.
Luna mock-groaned but leaned in eagerly. "Bring it on."
They went through the materials slowly—her asking, him guiding, and over time, Luna found herself absorbing more than she expected.
The knock on the door came just before dinner. Emmerich raised an eyebrow from where he was finishing the wine decanting.
Luna looked up from her notepad.
The butler stepped in. "Sir Edward has arrived."
Emmerich gave a small smile. "Finally."
Two weeks late, but Edward was true to his word.
He entered in his usual composed stride, a tailored dark coat draped over one shoulder, a hint of fatigue in his eyes—but more present, more grounded than ever.
"My apologies," he said, bowing slightly. "Some matters refused to resolve without my hand."
"You've always been a magnet for chaos," Emmerich replied wryly.
Edward gave a chuckle and turned to Luna. "Miss Luna."
Luna grinned. "Just Luna now, Sir Edward."
"Then just Edward, too, Luna."
The three sat for dinner, conversation at first drifting toward reports, and Edward's urgent business when he arrived, which caused him to delay his prior appointment to meet Emmerich in person. Emmerich nods, understanding that the matters that delayed Edward are mostly matters that Emmerich is also involved in, so he has insight on how much effort it took Edward to resolve such situation within the past two weeks.
But as dessert arrived, the discussion flowed away from shadows and strategy. It became warmer—lighter.
"You really stood for a whole minute?" Edward said, leaning forward in mock awe. "I'm impressed. Cherry didn't hold back?"
Luna beamed. "She might have blinked. I count that as a win."
"That's practically a declaration of admiration from her."
Emmerich rolled his eyes fondly. "Don't encourage her ego."
Edward laughed, a rare softness in his eyes as he turned back to Luna. "Still, I mean it. That's incredible. Most people never last past a few sessions with Cherry."
"Most people also don't get carried like sacks of potatoes by their dad afterward," Luna added with a snort.
Emmerich raised a brow. "You were unconscious."
Edward smiled, gaze shifting between them. "You've changed," he said to Luna, not as a throwaway compliment, but like someone stating a profound truth.
Luna met his gaze and nodded, quietly.
"Trying to be worth the sacrifices," she murmured.
Edward's smile softened. "You already are."
The room fell into a gentle silence.
The evening quiet settled over the manor like a warm blanket.
After dinner and laughter, Luna bid her father and Edward good night with a wave and a soft smile.
"I'll see you two in the morning. But first—hot soak, scribbling my woes, and maybe passing out mid-sentence."
She stretched with a tired groan and headed to her room, leaving the two men behind.
Inside her room, Luna peeled off her training clothes and sank into a long, hot bath.
Muscles loosened, aches eased. Her thoughts drifted—Cherry's brutal training, Edward's timely visit, and Emmerich's warm pride.
Afterward, she towel-dried her hair and flopped onto her bed in fresh pajamas. She reached for her journal, flipping to a blank page. Her pen moved quickly, recounting everything from her minute-long victory to Edward's quiet smile across the table.
She didn't understand why it made her heart beat a little faster… but she didn't dwell.
For now, she was just proud.
She ended the entry with:
"Getting stronger… slowly, painfully, but surely. Maybe one day, I'll be strong enough to chase ghosts."
Then she clicked her pen shut, slid under her covers, and drifted to sleep.
Meanwhile…
The moment Luna's footsteps vanished upstairs, Edward placed his teacup down with a soft clink and looked at Emmerich with seriousness that hadn't been present all dinner.
"She contacted me," Edward said quietly.
Emmerich didn't need to ask who. His hand stilled on the edge of the liquor cabinet.
"What did she say?" he asked, eyes narrowing.
"Lin said to stop trying to find her." Edward exhaled slowly. "She was very clear. She said it's for her safety—and Luna's."
A long silence stretched. Emmerich turned, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He stared into the amber depths, jaw clenched.
"I understand," he said finally. "But how do I explain to my daughter that her mother is alive and yet unreachable? That I know she's out there, but I can't tell her why or where?"
Edward leaned forward. "You don't."
Emmerich looked up, gaze hard.
"Not yet," Edward added. "When Luna's truly ready, she'll come to you. You'll know. Until then… she's healing. Let her keep moving forward without another burden to bear."
The silence was heavier this time, but Emmerich eventually nodded.
"She deserves the truth," he said quietly. "But not if it endangers her."
Edward smiled faintly. "Exactly."
With a long breath, Emmerich rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You're staying the night. I know you've been running on fumes these past two weeks."
Edward's grin flickered in amusement. "I won't argue. I don't think I've slept properly since the mission began, nor when it ended."
"You can talk to her in the morning," Emmerich said, moving to refill Edward's cup. "She'll be happy."
Edward accepted it but didn't drink, his thoughts wandering.
Emmerich, narrowing his eyes, added with a pointed tone, "Rest. That's an order. Don't even think about knocking on her door tonight."
Edward held up a hand. "I won't. I understand."
Still, a faint smile played on his lips.
Emmerich sighed, already regretting allowing him to stay. "You're not as subtle as you think."
Edward only chuckled.