Content Warning: Graphic depictions of violence and torture.
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In the dim glow of candlelight, young Leonhardt sits in a chair beside his mother's grand four-poster bed, its velvet curtains drawn back to reveal her frail form.
His crimson eyes filled with unshed tears. Teenage Liana stood in the back, her hands clasped tightly, her face filled with worry.
The room smelled of lavender and medicine, the Duchess, her once-vibrant beauty now a ghostly, managed a radiant smile as she reached out, her trembling fingers brushing away the tears streaming down his cheeks. "Leo," she whispered, her voice soft yet carrying the strength of a mother's love. "Why are you crying?"
Leonhardt's lips quivered, his voice breaking as he clutched her hand. "They say… they say you're going to die, Mother." His tears fell faster. "I heard servants talking, Father's cold silence… even Stepmother said it."
