The morning sun poured softly through the grand windows of the Vellaria Estate, bathing the marble floors in golden light. Aster Vellaria sat on her favorite antique chair in the solarium, her fingers gently stirring the tea in her porcelain cup. Her face was calm but thoughtful — eyes distant, as though she carried the weight of both the past and the future in her heart.
She had lived long enough to see love bloom and die, to watch families rise and crumble. The echoes of the past were never far from her mind and now, watching history unfold once again through her grandsons, she felt the same ache returning.
"Tell Caelum to come," she instructed her butler quietly. "There is something we must talk about before this foolishness goes any further."
Minutes later, Caelum entered the solarium, his tall frame casting a soft shadow across the tiled floor. He looked effortlessly striking as always the Vellaria charm unmistakable in the proud set of his jaw and the confidence in his stride.
"Grandmother," he greeted, bowing slightly before taking a seat across from her. "You called for me?"
"Yes," Aster said, her voice calm but firm. "It's about Caliste Winslow."
Caelum's lips lifted into a faint, knowing smile. "I thought it might be."
Aster studied him for a moment the ease in his tone, the sparkle in his eyes when her name was mentioned. It was the same light she once saw in another man's eyes years ago, before tragedy took everything.
"Caelum," she began softly, "you are a Vellaria. You are intelligent, driven, and kindhearted. But tell me honestly do you truly believe pursuing Caliste is wise?"
Caelum leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands together. "Wise?" he repeated with a quiet laugh. "Maybe not. But when has love ever been wise, Grandmother?"
"Do not jest about this," Aster said sharply, though her tone soon softened. "You know as well as I do she is your cousin's former wife. And not just any man's ex-wife, but Lucian Velmore's. Their history is deep, and their bond…" she hesitated, "…is not easily severed."
Caelum's expression grew serious. He looked out the window, eyes following the soft sway of the rose bushes outside.
"I know," he said quietly. "I know she still loves him."
Aster's brows lifted slightly. "Then why do you persist?"
Caelum turned his gaze back to her, his voice steady but filled with something aching beneath the surface. "Because I've seen the way that love burns her, Grandmother. The way it eats away at her spirit. She hides it behind her work, behind her calm smile but I can see it. That love for Lucian… it's not the kind that heals. It's the kind that slowly kills."
Aster sighed deeply, setting down her cup. "My dear boy… love can both destroy and redeem. But Caliste's heart has already chosen its path. You cannot rewrite it out of pity."
"It's not pity," Caelum said firmly. "It's admiration and care. I loved her long before she became Lucian's wife."
Aster's gaze softened with both surprise and sorrow. "You never said a word."
"What good would it have done?" Caelum asked with a rueful smile. "Back then, I was young just a foolish man admiring a woman already destined for someone else. I thought time would cure me. But when I saw her again, years later… nothing had changed. Only this time, she wasn't the radiant socialite everyone envied. She was quieter, lonelier and her eyes looked like someone who'd lost something she could never get back."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I want her to be happy, Grandmother. Even if it's not with me."
Aster fell silent, her heart aching for the sincerity in his tone. Caelum had inherited his mother's gentle heart too gentle, perhaps, for a world that often rewarded cruelty.
"You speak as though you've already lost," she said after a pause.
Caelum smiled faintly. "Maybe I have. Or maybe I'm preparing for what's inevitable." He looked down, then added quietly, "I see the way Lucian looks at her too. He tries to hide it, but that man… he's still chained to her memory. He just doesn't know how to forgive."
"And you?" Aster asked, her tone soft but probing. "Do you know how to forgive, Caelum?"
He met her gaze. "Yes. Because unlike Lucian, I don't want to possess her. I only want her peace."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy and tender.
Aster leaned back, fingers tracing the rim of her teacup. Her expression grew distant, almost haunted. "You remind me so much of your father," she murmured.
Caelum looked at her curiously. "Father?
She nodded slowly. "Ledger loved with the same quiet desperation you have. He, too, once loved a woman who was never meant for him."
A soft sadness flickered in Caelum's eyes. "My mother"
Aster smiled weakly her late daughter's name was both a comfort and a wound. "Yes. My daughters, your mother is pursued by your uncle Lincoln but your mother choose her heart, while your Aunt Catleya married Lincoln. And in the end, love bound our families together — and destroyed them."
She sighed, eyes growing misty. "I watched history repeat itself, Caelum. I saw jealousy turn into pain, and pain into tragedy. I cannot — I will not — watch it happen again."
Caelum stood and approached her, crouching down beside her chair. He took her hand gently in his.
"You won't," he said softly. "I'm not here to start another war. I'm not fighting Lucian. I only want to make sure Caliste doesn't suffer in silence anymore."
"And what will you do," Aster asked carefully, "if Lucian finally opens his heart and claims her again?"
Caelum hesitated — then smiled sadly. "Then I'll step aside. Gladly."
She blinked in surprise.
"I told you," Caelum continued, his tone steady, "I only want her to be happy. If that happiness comes from him if that man finally learns to cherish her and not use her pain as punishment then I'll let her go."
"And if he doesn't?"
Caelum's gaze hardened, though his voice remained calm. "Then I'll make sure she never cries over him again. I'll marry her if I must. And I'll show her that love doesn't have to hurt."
Aster looked at him long and hard. There was strength in his eyes, the kind that came not from arrogance, but from conviction. Yet beneath that strength was also heartbreak the kind only those who loved without return could truly understand.
Finally, she reached up and cupped his cheek gently. "You are a good man, Caelum. But good men often bleed the deepest. Be careful, my dear."
He smiled faintly. "I've already accepted that, Grandmother."
They sat in silence for a moment, the faint rustle of leaves from the garden outside the only sound between them. Aster's mind wandered back to decades ago to Lincoln, to Ledger, to the two sisters whose choices had shaped their family's fate.
History, it seemed, had a cruel sense of irony.
When Caelum finally rose to leave, Aster called out softly, "Caelum."
He turned at the doorway.
"I will speak with Lucian soon," she said. "Perhaps… it's time both of you stop letting ghosts decide your lives."
He gave her a small nod. "Maybe so."
As he walked out of the solarium, Aster watched him go with a heavy heart. He carried himself with pride the Vellaria blood strong in him but she could sense the quiet ache behind his composed smile.
When the door closed, Aster whispered to herself, "Love, once again, will test this family. But may the heavens be kind this time."
She turned toward the old portrait of her daughters hanging by the window Aurora and Catleya, smiling side by side as if the past never tore them apart.
"Perhaps," she murmured, her voice trembling with old pain, "it's time the next generation finds a way to end our curse."