The garden was still thick with the weight of Elendra's story. Her words hung in the air like smoke—unforgettable, undeniable.
Rythe drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, his voice steady yet filled with purpose.
"Everyone… please, sit."
His words broke the silence like a soft command, and one by one, they obeyed. Chairs scraped gently against the polished stone as the royal children, their partners, and finally the emperor himself took their seats.
Rythe remained standing a moment longer. His gaze swept the table—not with judgment, but with the weariness of a man who had carried too much for far too long.
Then, he looked directly at his father.
"I know you are not a bad man," Rythe began. "You are brutal, yes. Obsessively possessive—absolutely. But everything I've ever seen in you points to one truth: you want what's best for your family. And this empire."
Valien's eyes did not move from Rythe, nor did he interrupt.
"But wanting what's best… and doing what's right are two very different things."
Rythe's voice softened, layered with both understanding and accusation.
"Given what we know now of the late emperor—your father—I do not doubt that you were manipulated. That his hand was at your back, pushing you toward madness. But…"
He paused, then turned toward Elendra, who sat tall but pale, hands folded tightly in her lap.
"The love you once had for her," Rythe said, gesturing gently between his parents, "the love that gave you the courage to defy the old emperor, to take an omega bride even when it went against everything expected of you… that love should have grounded you."
He turned back to his father.
"It should have guarded her. Not abandoned her."
Valien's jaw twitched, and for a heartbeat it looked as though he might speak—but Rythe was not finished.
"You let lies fester. Let poison turn your heart cold. And instead of shielding the one person who stood beside you at your lowest, you let her be devoured."
Then, facing his mother once more, Rythe bowed—not just his head, but his entire upper body.
"Mother," he said, voice cracking slightly. "For everything you endured. For the years you spent in hiding, in fear, in heartbreak… and for the time you lost with your children—I am sorry. From the depths of my soul, I am sorry."
Elendra blinked rapidly, clearly not expecting the apology to come from him first.
Straightening again, Rythe turned to the whole family.
"This… is a delicate moment. A turning point." He looked around at his brothers and sisters, their beloveds, even Kael—still subdued.
"We either repair what has been broken, and heal together—or we fall apart completely, and give our enemies a reason to rejoice."
There was a beat of silence. The breeze stirred, rustling the garden trees.
"As far as I'm concerned," Rythe continued, his voice unwavering, "Mother is one of us. She always was. And now that she is back, we are not letting her return to exile."
Elendra's lips trembled, her breath caught in her throat.
"I will ensure her place in this family is reinstated, and her title restored. Every false allegation will be dropped and stricken from every record. As far as the court is concerned, Elendra is the emperor's rightful consort—and our mother."
The weight of those words settled across the table. One by one, the siblings looked up—then began to nod.
First Maleus, eyes burning with emotion. Then Dain. Rhalia. Kael. Vaela. Astrid.
Even their partners, seated quietly nearby, inclined their heads in respect.
No words were needed.
Rythe stepped back from the table, then slowly stood.
And in a gesture both symbolic and deeply intimate, each of his siblings and their spouses rose with him, one by one—united.
Without another word, Rythe turned and led the way out, his siblings following close behind.
They left their parents sitting side by side in the garden—alone at last.
Time stretched between them in silence.
Then, finally, the emperor turned toward Elendra.
But it was not with the stern command of an emperor.
It was the uncertain gaze of a man who once held a young omega's hand under moonlight and whispered promises of forever.
And for the first time in decades, they simply sat.
Not as rulers.
Not as enemies.
But as two people who had once loved—and now, perhaps, could try to find something of it again.
The garden had emptied.
The laughter, the tension, the stares—all gone. Only the soft chirp of birds and the rustling of trees remained as the wind swept through Astrid's manicured hedges. The two of them sat side by side, the sun lowering just enough to cast long golden rays between them. For a moment, neither spoke.
Valien's hands were folded tightly in his lap. His jaw was tense, as if forcing himself not to speak before he'd gathered the strength.
Elendra sat still, regal despite her simple gown, her posture straight but her eyes distant.
"You never used to look at me like this," Valien said quietly. "With such… emptiness."
Elendra didn't respond right away. She closed her eyes briefly, as if gathering her strength too. Then she turned toward him.
"That's because once," she said gently, "you looked at me like I was everything."
The emperor looked away.
"You were."
His voice cracked slightly. "And I destroyed you."
Elendra didn't contradict him.
"You let yourself be destroyed first," she said after a beat. "By your father. By fear. By pride."
Valien's breath shook.
"He told me things. Showed me forged letters. Arranged encounters—always making it seem like you were hiding something."
He gave a dry, bitter laugh.
"And I believed it. Every lie. Because it was easier than believing that I was being played. Easier than trusting the one person I should have fought for."
Elendra's eyes glistened, but her voice remained calm.
"And when you had the chance to stop it—you didn't."
He turned toward her, pain in his face.
"I know."
A long pause.
"And there is no forgiveness I could ask for that you don't have the right to refuse."
She looked at him fully then, studying the man she had once loved. The man she had feared. The man she had lost.
"Do you remember the last thing I said to you?"
Valien nodded slowly.
"You said… 'If you let them do this to me, it will never stop. Not for me. Not for our children.'"
A long silence followed.
Elendra finally broke it.
"And you said nothing."
Valien turned away, ashamed.
"I thought banishing you would protect them. That your presence would only divide us further, make you a target. But I see now…"
He shook his head.
"I see now that what I was trying to protect was a lie. One I told myself because I was too weak to face the truth."
Elendra turned her gaze to the sky, blinking away tears that had not yet fallen.
"Do you think I wanted to leave?"
Her voice was a whisper.
"I stayed as long as I could, hoping that one day, you'd remember the man who defied an empire to love me. But you didn't."
"I was that man," Valien said, his voice raw. "I just… stopped being him when I lost you."
Elendra looked at him again, and this time her expression softened—not with love, but with sorrow.
"Our children grew up without knowing me," she said. **"They think I abandoned them."
She paused.
"And I suppose, in a way, I did."
Valien was quiet for a long moment. Then, with careful words:
"It's not too late."
Elendra gave him a long, unreadable look.
"Not for them."
She stood slowly, brushing her hands down her gown.
"But you and I? We are ghosts, Valien. What once was—died. And we are not those people anymore."
Valien stood too, and though his body moved like that of an emperor, his heart was just a man's—humbled and heavy.
"I don't expect your love," he said.
"Only that, perhaps… you stay. This time. For them."
Elendra studied him, and slowly, she gave a small, almost broken nod.
"For them, I will stay."
And then she turned and walked away, leaving Valien alone beneath the falling leaves, the final shards of the past glimmering at his feet.