Chapter 37 – A Father's Guilt, A Son's Silence
The morning sun filtered through the estate's high windows, but Sirius did not greet it. He stood outside his father's private study, arms crossed behind his back, gaze unfocused. The guards at the door stiffened but did not speak. They knew better.
The Grand Duke, seated behind his massive desk, was reviewing documents when the door opened on its own.
He looked up. "Sirius."
"Father," came the boy's voice—calm, clipped, quiet.
The Grand Duke rose immediately, setting aside everything. "You never visit in the morning. Is something wrong?"
Sirius didn't answer at first. He walked into the room, glanced briefly at the wall of swords behind his father, then turned to face him.
"You entered my room."
The words weren't accusatory. Not loud. But they cut like drawn steel.
The Grand Duke's expression froze for a second too long. "...We were worried about you."
"You've always been worried," Sirius said. "But you've never crossed that threshold before."
There was no emotion in his tone. No anger, no sorrow. Just fact.
The Grand Duke didn't sit. His hands rested on the edge of the desk. "It was your mother's idea. She was upset after the ball. She... didn't know what else to do."
"And you followed her."
"I thought you'd be asleep."
"I wasn't."
Silence stretched between them.
The Grand Duke exhaled slowly. "It wasn't right. I know that. Your room is your sanctuary. We should have respected that."
Sirius studied him. "But you didn't stop her."
"No," his father admitted. "I didn't."
For a moment, Sirius's gaze dropped—not out of submission, but thought. When he lifted his eyes again, they were colder than before.
"What did you see?"
The Grand Duke hesitated.
Sirius waited.
"Your mother was... shaken," the man said at last. "I've never seen her like that. She didn't speak a word for several minutes. Just stared."
"At her?" Sirius asked softly.
The Grand Duke nodded. "At the woman in your paintings."
Sirius turned his back to him then, walking slowly toward the tall windows. The sunlight caught his silver hair, casting a faint glow around his silhouette.
"She's not someone you could ever understand," he said quietly.
"I'm not trying to," his father replied. "I only wish to understand you."
Sirius didn't respond.
"I didn't see obsession," the Grand Duke continued. "I saw love. And I'm... proud, in a way. That you can still feel it. That something lives inside you, despite everything."
Sirius remained still, but something in his shoulders shifted.
"And your mother?" he asked at last.
"She saw the one thing she'll never be," the Grand Duke answered quietly. "And it broke her."
Sirius turned his head slightly. "I know."
The Grand Duke stepped forward. "Let her anger cool. She's blinded by fear."
"I'm used to it."
His father stopped a few paces behind him. "You're still her son."
"No," Sirius said, his voice soft but unyielding. "I'm just a shadow of the son she wanted."
The Grand Duke flinched—but said nothing.
Sirius didn't look back as he stepped forward, the sunlight sliding along the marble floor at his feet.
"Do not enter that room again."
And then he left.