Elysia didn't know how long she stood there.
With Kaelith pressed between them, her tiny cheek tucked against Malvoria's collarbone, the weight of everything finally felt real. Not in the pain of it. Not in the blood or heat or fury.
But in the stillness.
They were here. Safe. Together.
Saelira was the first to break the silence. She approached in her long navy robes, her hair braided tightly back, the lines on her face sharper tonight, though her expression held warmth beneath the formality.
"She's been restless all day," Saelira murmured, brushing a hand over Kaelith's back. "I told her you'd come home."
Elysia looked up at her. "She felt it?"
"Of course," Saelira said. "She's your daughter."
Malvoria tightened her arms around Kaelith, exhaling a breath that trembled.
Then she finally spoke. "She's gone. Lucindra."
Saelira's expression didn't change, but her hands stilled.
"She tapped into something beneath the palace," Elysia said. "Something ancient. It twisted her."
