Ancestral Lineage - Chapter 473

Capítulo 473: A Brief Conversation Which wasn’t Very Brief

Emma lay sprawled on her massive bed, still thinking about Ethan, when her device buzzed.

A sharp, chirping tone.A hologram flickered above her bedside pillar.

Emma’s eyes snapped open.

The name glowing across the icy air nearly kicked her heart into orbit.

Ethan.

Her entire body jolted so hard she almost rolled off the bed.

“Hrk! No! Not now! What am I even saying?!”

She scrambled upright, hair a snowy mess, braids undone, wolf ears flicking wildly like confused antennae. The queen of the North, heroine of a thousand hunts, slayer of beasts that ate steel for breakfast, panicked like a teenage girl receiving her first crush call.

And then she remembered.

Regnare’s patient, dead-serious lessons.

She could still see him, the Crown Prince, sitting like a tiny professor atop a crate, explaining holo-calling etiquette after watching her nearly headbutt the device during her last attempt.

“Queen Emma, you don’t yell at it.”

“You press the green symbol. Gently.”

“No, your Highness, gently. Gently means not breaking it.”

“And then you say hello. Calmly. Like a normal being. Normal. N-O-R—Emma, stop baring your fangs.”

Emma slapped her own cheeks to focus.

“Okay… green button. Gentle. Normal. I can be normal. I am the queen. I am calm. I am snow. I am serenity.”

The device continued buzzing.

Emma inhaled deeply.

Pressed the green icon.

Gently.

The holo-screen bloomed to life, Ethan’s face flickered in, wide-eyed and mid-panic, as if he hadn’t expected her actually to answer.

Emma froze.

Ethan froze.

She remembered Regnare’s final instruction.

“When you answer, smile. A friendly one. Not the hunting one.”

Her lips twitched.

She tried.

Hard.

What came out was a sort of wolfy-not-wolfy attempt, a smile that almost said “hello friend” but still carried a faint whisper of “I could tackle you if I wanted.”

“Um… hello?”

“Greetings…” Emma said, voice soft, steady, and only slightly trembling. “I have answered… normally.”

Behind Ethan, several female voices burst into laughter. The hologram shook as if he’d tried (and failed) to mute them.

Emma blinked. Her ears perked.

Ethan cleared his throat, straightened his back, then immediately slouched again because his spine apparently forgot how to function. On the other end of the line, Emma lay flat on her bed like a stunned carp, device raised above her like she wanted to capture Ethan in full.

There was a long, silent beat. The kind that felt like two socially inept pigeons trying to bow at the same time.

“…Was that the empresses?” Emma asked carefully, as if the wrong answer might detonate the call.

“Unfortunately…” Ethan murmured with the exhausted dignity of a man who had accepted his fate long ago.

“…Ah.”

“…Yes.”

Another pause. Another two pigeons.

Ethan scratched his cheek, eyes darting everywhere except the screen. “So… uh… how have you been?”

Emma blinked rapidly. “Me? I… uh… good. Fine. Existing.” She cleared her throat, attempting to sit up but succeeding only in half-rolling into a bundled blanket monster. “You know. Eating. Sleeping. Leading the pack of my kingdom. The usual.”

Ethan nodded with the solemnity of a scholar. “Good. Leading is… difficult. Usually.”

“Usually,” she echoed, nodding too hard. “Yes. Absolutely. Difficult.”

Silence.

Emma squinted a little. “You seem… alive.”

“Yes. I’m… living.”

“…Good. Don’t stop.”

“I’ll try not to.”

Another silence. This one so thick it could be sliced and served with tea.

Emma coughed lightly. “So… um… the empresses… they sounded… cheerful?”

“Cheerful is one word,” Ethan said, staring at the ceiling, like it had personally wronged him. “Predatory is another. Unified is concerning.”

Emma snorted before she could stop herself. “They didn’t eat you, so that’s a plus.”

“They almost did. Not physically. Spiritually. My pride took a bullet.”

“Ah. Well.” Emma gave a sympathetic wince. “It can regenerate?”

“I’m hoping.”

Emma hesitated, then added, “I kinda miss you.”

Ethan froze. “…That’s possible.”

The quiet that followed wasn’t awkward this time. It just settled there, warm, gentle, and a little strange in a nice way.

Then Ethan accidentally dropped the device, cursed loudly, and his wives exploded into cackling laughter in the background.

Emma blinked. “…Are you dying?”

“No. Just suffering.” He retrieved the device, flustered. “Ignore them.”

“Not possible. They sounded terrifying.”

“They are.”

“I believe you.”

And despite the chaos on both ends of the line, a tiny smile tugged at both of their lips, two socially confused adults trying very hard to act normal, failing spectacularly, and somehow making it work.

Ethan inhaled like a man preparing to wrestle destiny itself, which, considering his life, wasn’t far from the truth.

“Emma… I actually called for a reason.”

She tensed just a little, though she tried to play it cool. “Oh? Did Prince Regnare eat something he shouldn’t have again?”

“No, no, not that.” Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted to… personally invite you… to the naming ceremony. For my new babies.”

Emma froze.

Not blinked. Not paused.

Froze… like someone had just cast Time Stop on her.

“…Me?” she asked, voice cracking ever so slightly. “You are personally inviting me?”

“Yes.” Ethan nodded firmly, then immediately lost 20% confidence. “I mean… you’re important. You’re… part of this. And Regnare would riot if you weren’t there. He’s already planning his mischief. Apparently, he wants to ‘test the other babies to see if they’re worthy siblings.’ His words, not mine.” Ethan threw an indirect jab at his son.

Emma groaned into her pillow. “Ancestors above, he’s going feral already.”

“He gets that from you. I don’t know what you did with him all that time he visited you.”

“EXCUSE YOU?”

“You can deny it, but the boy did once attack a magical illusion because he thought it was disrespecting your cooking. What did you cook for him?”

“That illusion had an attitude! And I’m not telling you what I cooked for him…”

Ethan snorted. “See?”

A tiny, reluctant laugh escaped her before she could crush it.

Emma shifted so she was at least pretending to sit up properly. “But your empresses… they don’t mind?”

In the background, one of said empresses shouted, “BRING HER! I WANNA SEE IF SHE GETS FLUSTERED WHEN SHE SEES ETHAN IN HIS CEREMONIAL UNIFORM!”

Another voice added, “HE HAS TO WEAR THE SHORT ONE! HIS THIGHS DEMAND FREEDOM!”

Ethan slammed his hand over the device, but the damage was already done. His soul visibly left his body for a moment before boomeranging back in.

Emma was silent.

Then…

“…I’m sorry, did she say THIGHS?”

“I am begging you not to repeat it.”

“…Short… robes?”

“Emma.”

“…Ethan.”

His face hit his palm with enough force to have consequences.

“Sheesh.” Emma whistled softly. “Your life is a circus.”

“I live in fear.”

“Understandable.”

Ethan glared at the ceiling again. “So… before my dignity disintegrates… will you come?”

Emma exhaled slowly, the tension easing into something faintly warm. “Of course I’ll come. I was already planning an official visit.”

“And… you aren’t uncomfortable?”

She squinted. “Ethan. I have faced monsters, armies, ancient sentient storms, and your son’s teachings. I can handle a ceremony.”

“…And my wives?”

A beat.

Emma grimaced. “I will… strategically ignore your wives.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Also,” she added mischievously, “I am absolutely making fun of you if you show up in tiny robes.”

“You do, and I’m leaving the ceremony.”

“No, you won’t.”

“…N,o I won’t.”

Their laughter overlapped, awkward and chaotic, yet genuine.

And for the first time in months, both of them felt the odd sense that maybe, somehow, this wasn’t a bad start… wherever it was going.

Emma shifted on the bed, tugging her fur cloak around her shoulders even though she wasn’t cold. Something in the call felt… warm. Strange. Like steam rising in a room that should’ve been all ice.

Ethan cleared his throat again… his fifth time in two minutes. “So… uh… it’ll be nice to see you again.”

Emma blinked.”…You saw me a month and some weeks ago.”

“Yes, but… this is different.”

“How so?”

Ethan opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

“I mean… It’s been a while since we talked properly. Without arguing. Or negotiating alliance terms between Anbord and Fenrir.”

Emma bit her lip, not in the seductive way, just in the help-I’m-confused way. “Yeah. It’ll be… nice.”

“Nice,” Ethan echoed, voice softening a little too much for two people who allegedly weren’t flirting.

Emma looked away, cheeks warming. “And the kids are cute. I… want to see them.”

“They’ll like you,” he said quietly.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Her breath hitched, just a tiny one, but enough that she silently cursed the device for not having a way to conceal it.

“You can be terrifying and calming. It’s a talent.”

“Stop.””You stop.”

They both went quiet.

A dangerous quiet.

One that felt like standing too close to a fire you didn’t realize was growing.

Emma exhaled slowly. “I… I’ve never talked like this to anyone. Besides, we are just allies…”

Ethan hesitated, his voice dropping into a low warmth that slid under her guard like a whisper. “Me too. But… we are more than allies…”

Her heart did an inconvenient little flip. “Well… it’s not like you couldn’t call earlier…”

“You didn’t call either.”

“I was busy.”

“So was I.”

“And we both procrastinated because…”

Ethan cut in gently, “Because it felt easier to avoid something that mattered too much.”

Emma froze again.

Ethan realized what he’d said.

They both panicked in silence.

“…I didn’t mean it like that,” Ethan blurted.

“I know,” Emma lied.

“Good.”

“Very good.”

Another long, slow breath.

Then Ethan chuckled, soft and unsure. “This conversation… got weird.”

“It did.” She swallowed. “But… good weird.”

“Good weird,” he agreed, and she saw his smile.

Emma tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear, suddenly aware of how fast her pulse was going. “Your majesty, I’ll be there for the ceremony. Just send someone to escort me later.”

“I will.”

“And… I’ll try not to stare too hard if the robe is short.”

“Emma.”

“That was a joke.”

“It was not.”

“…Mostly a joke.”

He sighed, but she could hear the warmth there, too. “Get some rest. I’ll… uh… I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah. Soon.”

Neither hung up.

Three seconds passed.

Five.

Ten.

Finally, Ethan whispered, barely audible, “…Night, Emma.”

She whispered back before she could stop herself. “Goodnight… Ethan.”

The call ended.

Emma lay there staring at the ceiling, realizing her face was on fire.

Ethan, on the other hand, was staring at the wall like it had betrayed him.

And neither of them had the faintest clue when a simple invitation turned into a conversation that felt suspiciously like the beginning of something dangerous, soft, and entirely too real.

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