The grand doors to the solarium hissed open, and Princess Athea walked in.

Her presence silenced the lighthearted chatter instantly. She moved with that usual majestic air that made the opulent room feel like her personal court, her dark dress a sharp contrast against the bright, airy space.

She didn't immediately acknowledge the conversation she had interrupted. Her focus went to her two daughters. She glided toward Aphrodite first, who was still lounging in her chair with an expression of perfect, regal amusement.

Athea walked behind her, wrapped her arms around her, and pressed a delicate, almost formal kiss to her cheek. "Looking as perfect as ever, my little goddess," she said, her voice a smooth, melodic greeting.

A flicker of genuine delight ignited in Aphrodite's green eyes. Nothing gave her more joy than the Queen or her mother's approval—it was the currency of her world, the validation for an existence built on beauty and grace. She beamed. "Of course, Mother. I do try."

Athea then turned to Viora, her smile fading slightly as she met her oldest daughter's gaze. The shift in her demeanor was subtle but noticeable.

She walked over behind Viora's seat, and instead of a distant kiss, she placed her hands on Viora's shoulders, leaning down to press her lips to her daughter's temple. Her fingers gently squeezed, a rare gesture of tangible affection.

"I'm glad you're staying with us longer, Viora. The Frontlines..." Athea's voice paused for a fraction of a second, the mask of the unshakable princess cracking to reveal the mother beneath. "They are a meat grinder. You will not be reckless."

Viora's back remained straight, but she allowed herself to lean into the touch, just for a moment. The distance between her and her mother had grown so much ever since she went against her wishes and decided to become a Warlady. Ever since then, Athea who was always not the best mother to her even to begin with since she cared more for her work then her daughters, had grown even more colder

This was the closest she ever got to warmth from her mother, a command disguised as concern, an order to live.

It was a language of affection that Viora had learned to translate, and though she hated it to her core, though it left a familiar ache in her chest, she cherished it. "I am always careful, Mother."

Just then, Calyra's voice, rich with amusement, echoed in the room.

"Hey, Athea. Perfect timing." Calyra leaned forward from her seat, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "You're just in time. Valerie was about to show us something. Apparently, she met a certain... special someone during her visit to extend the Aegis Division invitation to Sage Stellan."

Athea gave a faint, dismissive wave of her hand as she moved to her own seat. "Valerie, I hope you didn't mess up the invitation?"

"Don't dismiss her yet. This time she is not being childish; I can assure you of that," Calyra purred, her smile turning wicked. "This time she met a certain special male."

Athea's posture didn't change, but her interest stirred despite herself. A male interesting enough for Valerie to mention? That was a novelty.

"Valerie, can you hurry up and show it already?" Aphrodite demanded, her tone still dismissive but her eyes fixed on the device in Valerie's lap.

"Patience, Aphro," Valerie said, her enthusiasm undimmed. She tapped the screen, and a holographic image bloomed in the air above the table: a selfie of her beaming face next to a young man whose expression was a perfect mix of shock and reluctant amusement.

The world seemed to fall away from Athea.

The light chatter, the clink of silverware, the scent of jasmine, all of it vanished, replaced by the deafening rush of blood in her ears. Her breath caught in her throat, a physical impossibility.

The image floating above the dinner table was a ghost, a secret brought into the light. The male, her son, Zaeryn was standing beside Valerie. The impossible collision of her two worlds, the one she ruled and the one she hid, was happening right here, right now. For a terrifying second, the only thought that hammered against the inside of her skull was a single, frantic question: 'Do they know?'

Externally, Athea remained a statue of composed indifference.

Across the table, Viora studied the selfie with calculated interest. Her eyes swept past Valerie's beaming face as if it were simply part of the background, locking instead onto the male figure beside her. There was something about him, something that tugged at the edges of her memory like a half-forgotten song.

'He looks... familiar,' she thought, her mind already rifling through its catalog of faces and places, searching for the connection.

Then it clicked.

It had been in Athea's office just days ago, the very day Viora had returned from the Frontlines. She had entered her mother's office and saw that Athea had her Omni-pad on, displaying a picture of someone.

The image on the screen had been of a young male, a boy really, with softer features and blonde hair the same shade as the Lumina royal family. Her mother had quickly realized she had forgotten to hide the tablet and swiftly locked it, but not before Viora's sharp eyes had captured the face.

Viora possessed the kind of memory that catalogued details most people would dismiss—the curve of a jawline, the spacing of eyes, the particular way someone's features arranged themselves into something distinctive.

And now, comparing the boy from that hidden photograph to the man standing beside Valerie in this selfie, she could trace the evolution. The face had matured, sharpened. The hair was dark, but that could easily be dyed, or perhaps it had darkened from that youthful shade to something deeper, richer. But the fundamental architecture remained identical.

'It's him,' she realized with quiet certainty.

Her eyes darted to her mother, her gaze sharpening into something predatory. And there, in that fraction of a second, she saw what Athea probably thought no one would notice.

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