The rustling leaves filled the silence after Aurean left.
His scent lingered faintly in the air—tea, stonefruit, and something wild, something free—like the hounds he had just been playing with. The tea tray still held his half-drunk cup and a single untouched biscuit.
Kael's jaw was tight. His hands, clasped behind his back, betrayed the tension in his shoulders.
Astrid slowly turned toward her brothers. "Was that so strange?" she asked, her voice light but tinged with challenge.
Maleus was silent, dark eyes thoughtful as he stared at the spot where Aurean had stood. Then finally, he spoke.
"He laughed." The words were low, almost disbelieving. "I've never… seen him laugh."
Thalan reached to pour more tea, his movement calm, measured. "He does laugh," he said gently. "He just didn't have many reasons to."
Kael's gaze cut toward the empty garden path, his expression unreadable. "He shouldn't have needed reasons." The words were too quiet to be bitter—but they weren't kind, either.
Astrid set down her cup a little harder than necessary.
Kael exhaled slowly through his nose, then looked at them—each in turn.
"We need to call a family meeting, he said. Everyone should be there."
Astrid raised a brow.
Kael didn't waver.
There was a beat of silence, before Thalan, ever the voice of quiet grace, spoke again—his tone soft but firm.
"Then invite everyone to dinner," he said, brushing a stray leaf from the table.
Kael hesitated.
Kael closed his eyes for a brief second, then opened them. "Dinner, then."
The garden was bathed in the golden glow of lanterns hung between arching trees. The summer breeze carried the scent of blooming helianthe and saffronroot, rustling leaves in rhythm with laughter and conversation.
The royal family sat around an elegantly set table, its length graced by crystal glasses, warm dishes, silver platters, and fine wine. There were no guards, no aides. Just them.
The Emperor and Queen at one end, their children and close companions flanking either side:
Rythe, silent as ever, seated beside Vaela and Dain, his goblet barely touched.
Kael, across from him, calm but watchful.
Maleus, with Thalan at his side.
Elion, sipping wine, half-listening, half-dreaming.
Rhalia, with Serin beside her, whispering now and then.
Astrid, vibrant and relaxed, enjoying every flower that encircled them.
For a while, it was laughter—old stories, bickering banter, the rare, delicate joy of family.
But then Kael set his glass down with deliberate care.
The laughter faded slowly, like a candle flickering out.
"There's something I need to say," Kael began, voice steady. "we promised Rythe we wouldn't bring this up, but tonight—it's only us. No servants. No courtiers. Just us. A family."
A hush fell. Even the garden felt stiller.
"It's about Aurean."
Several people glanced toward Rythe, but he didn't move, didn't speak. Kael continued.
"I'm bringing him up because there's something we must do—not as rulers, not as nobles—but as a family. We have to ask for his forgiveness."
The weight of those words settled like a stone in their midst.
"For the pain." His voice cracked slightly. "For the torture. And for the child he lost in this house."
No one breathed.
Until the Queen spoke—quiet, regal, resolute.
"I wasn't here when it all happened," she said, voice smooth with grief, "but Astrid has told me everything. And I agree with Kael."
She looked around the table, her expression solemn.
"Unforgivable as it all may be… the child that was lost was still of royal blood. That alone demands recognition. But more than that—it was a life."
Across the table, Rythe's hand flinched on the stem of his glass. But he said nothing.
There was a long silence. Then Kael's voice returned, lower, strained.
"The blame is mine. I bear it. But apologizing as a family—it will mean more than an apology from me alone."
Serin, quiet and often distant, surprised everyone with a soft, "He deserved better. Yes… I agree."
Maleus nodded next. Then Rhalia. Elion followed. Even Astrid, who had always been closest to Rythe, added her voice.
Thalan's hand found Maleus's beneath the table.
Still, Rythe said nothing.
Until finally, as the tension stretched and strained, he leaned back in his chair, the firelight catching the sharp cut of his jaw and the weariness in his eyes.
He gave a faint, ironic smile. "It's a good idea," he said quietly. "After all, Aurean is now working for the empire."
He paused, taking a sip from his glass before continuing.
"But I won't be present for the apology."
That earned a ripple of confusion. The Queen, gentle now, tilted her head slightly.
"Why, Rythe?" she asked softly.
He didn't answer right away.
Then he looked at them—all of them.
"If anyone here," he said, voice calm but low and raw beneath, "know someone that had been dragged through the hell I put Aurean through… would you allow that person to see me?"
No one spoke.
Not Kael. Not the Queen. Not even Astrid.
Not a single voice rose to defend or protest.
Because they all knew the answer.