Maleus' wing of the palace was as warm and serene as the prince himself—sunlight pouring through cream-colored drapes, soft cushions adorning velvet lounges, the scent of citrus and lavender lingering faintly in the air.
After leaving the garden, the siblings filtered into the sitting room. Footsteps were muted by plush carpets as they took their seats, each carrying the weight of disbelief.
Servants entered silently with silver trays—tea, chilled wine, sweetened fruits, and small spiced cakes—then bowed and withdrew, leaving the siblings alone for the first time since their mother's return.
Astrid was the first to speak, plopping dramatically onto the largest lounge.
"Did that really happen? Or did someone slip dreamroot into my tea?"
Vaela let out a breathy laugh, still stunned.
"Mother's alive… and everything we knew was a lie."
Rhalia poured herself a cup of tea with surprisingly steady hands.
"Not everything was a lie. Only the parts our father didn't want us to see."
"Well," Kael drawled, sipping wine, "at least now we know why the old man was never exactly warm."
That earned a few huffs and tired smiles. The air was thick with disbelief but laced with tentative peace.
Dian, lounging comfortably, raised a brow and grinned as he glanced toward Rythe.
"Old love rekindling, huh? Looks like mother and father might just be our next royal couple comeback. Maybe we'll be the empire's next favorite romantic tale."
Laughter broke out.
Astrid clapped her hands.
"Can we write that into a bard's song?"
Even Maleus chuckled softly.
But Rythe didn't laugh.
He had been sitting quietly in the corner armchair, his cup untouched, fingers clasped tightly in front of him. His gaze had been unfocused—lost somewhere else entirely.
Vaela noticed it first.
"Rythe?" she asked gently.
Rythe looked up slowly. His voice was quiet, even, but heavy.
"It's just… for them, at least the late emperor was the villain. There's a clear line of blame. Manipulation. Abuse of power. Our father had his failures… but there's a path for him to walk toward redemption."
Everyone fell silent.
Rythe's gaze lowered. His jaw clenched.
"But with Aurean… there was no manipulation. No one forced me. I knew the truth. I knew the pain I was causing. I knew how innocent he was… and I still paraded him naked through the grounds. I still let them throw him in the dungeon. I still let him bleed and mourn our child alone while I… entertained a political match."
Kael looked down. Maleus' brows drew together in sorrow. Even Kael's ever-present smirk faded.
"So yes," Rythe finished, his voice cracking ever so slightly, "our father might find his way back to the woman he once loved. But me?"
He exhaled slowly.
"All I see ahead of me is hell."
A tense silence followed, not out of judgment—but helplessness.
No one could speak. No one dared.
Until Astrid got up, walked to him, and sat beside him silently—just resting her head gently on his shoulder.
The others followed suit in silence—moving closer, forming a quiet circle of comfort around the one brother who had carried all their battles… and all their scars.