They were sitting on the terrace as the sun set, the garden glowing gold.
Amethyst watched her children — not children anymore — sip tea in silence. The air was still. Safe. Rare.
She turned to them, voice soft with memory.
"What do you think love is?"
They looked at each other for a long moment.
Then Serafina spoke first.
She didn't rush. She never did.
"Love is protection… but not possession. It's choosing someone over pride. Over power. Over fear. Even when it hurts."
She looked at her mother then.
"It's what you gave us. What he gave you."
Amethyst's eyes burned.
Then Adrian, quieter than usual, added:
"Love is sacrifice. The kind you don't announce. The kind you make in silence… and keep making even after they're gone."
He looked away, jaw tight.
"It's the reason we're still here."
Amethyst swallowed hard.
And in that moment — for the first time in years — she didn't feel like she was holding the pieces of a broken past.
She felt the shape of something whole.
Because they had understood.
Because they had loved, even without knowing him.
Because they were his.
And hers.
Forever.