The room chosen was neither throne room nor war chamber, but a long, sun-washed gallery known as the Hall of Autumn Light—named for the golden-red hues cast through the stained-glass windows when the sun began to set. The emperor often walked there in solitude. Today, the entire royal family gathered in its hush.
No guards. No advisors. No political audience.
Just Kael, Maleus, Elion, Vaela, Dain, Rhalia, Serin, Astrid, Thalan, Rythe's absent shadow—and at the head, the Emperor and Queen Elendra.
They stood in a crescent before the doors as Aurean was led in by Tholan. His presence stilled the room like a spell. Dressed in deep blue robes lined with silver thread, he looked every inch the noble he now was—but calm, self-possessed, unreadable.
Aurean bowed with grace, silver eyes sweeping across them. When he straightened, silence reigned.
Kael took one step forward.
"Aurean." His voice was quiet but clear. "Thank you for coming. We… we asked to see you like this because there's something we need to say as a family."
Aurean gave a slight, polite tilt of his head. "I am listening, Your Highness."
Kael didn't flinch at the formality, but it sharpened the guilt in his chest.
"There are no excuses for what happened," he said. "No justification, no reasoning, no twisting of duty or law can make it right. You were wronged. Broken. Stripped of dignity. And we stood by."
Aurean's eyes remained on him, unreadable.
Kael continued. "What happened to you in these walls... the pain you endured... the life that was taken... it shames us."
The Queen stepped forward next, her voice gentle but clear.
"I was not here then. But I should have been. I should have protected you. You were just a boy. And no matter the circumstances of your arrival into this palace, you were wronged. And the child you carried… deserved to be mourned, not erased."
Aurean blinked slowly, a subtle stiffening in his posture.
Then Kael stepped forward, wringing his fingers slightly before he found his courage.
"It should never have happened," he said softly. "I wish I could go back. But since I can't, let me say this now: I am sorry."
One by one, the others added their voices—Vaela, Dain, Rhalia, Elion, even Thalan, who said quietly:
"We may not have lifted a hand against you, but silence has its cruelty too."
"We came here today," Kael finished, "to ask—no, to beg—for your forgiveness. Not as a political gesture. But because we wronged you, as a family. And we want to make it right, however long that takes."
The silence that followed was thick and aching.
Aurean stood still, lips pressed lightly together, his hands clasped before him.
For a long time, he said nothing.
Then:
"You're right," he said softly, but with clarity. "There is no making it right."
Several of them looked down.
Aurean continued. "But… I do not hate you." He looked at Astrid, then Serin, then Kael. "Not anymore."
A pause. Then he added, eyes calm:
"Forgiveness is not a moment. It is a road. One I might be willing to walk, if the people who put me in hell… are willing to walk it with me."
A breath left Kael's chest as if he'd been holding it for years.
"We are," he said at once.
The Queen nodded. So did Maleus. Astrid swallowed hard and stepped forward, reaching out—but stopped herself, letting her hand fall.
Aurean gave a small, almost imperceptible smile.
Then his gaze swept the room, lingering briefly on the empty space where Rythe might have stood.
But he said nothing.
And bowed.
"Then let us begin."