Days later — The Gazebo by the Lake
A man stood by the water.
An Admiral.
One of the few who came to her mother's funeral.
the one who throwed by pudding by her
Selene, now distant but observing — approached.
Not because she wanted to speak.
But because he did not lie when others did.
He bent down.
Spoke to her softly.
Alaric looking from the distance, there was also Evandra who fail hold her sister
Selene look seriously to the Admiral.
Looks like he discuss something important.
And left.
What was said — he would never repeat.
But from that day forward…
Selene stopped asking questions.
And started looking for answers.
__________________________________________________________
From then on, she spent her time:
In the library — reading history, war, language, philosophy.
In the courtyard — memorizing drills she wasn't taught.
In the lake — diving headfirst when no one was watching.
Sometimes, she made guards panic.
Sometimes, she disappeared for hours.
But always — she returned.
Smarter.
Colder.
Stronger.
__________________________________________________________
And amidst it all — one person never gave up.
Queen Seraphina.
She never forced herself into Selene's heart.
But she left warm milk and bread at her table in the library.
She helped her understand war maps.
Or old philosophical texts.
She sat quietly when Selene refused to speak.
Not as her real mother.
But as someone who chose to care.
__________________________________________________________
Selene had no friends.
She had no inheritance.
She had no title beyond a surname that terrified the court.
But she had:
Evandra — her sister, her protector, her mirror.
Seraphina — her quiet, steadfast warmth.
And she had herself.
__________________________________________________________
The Man Who Never Lies
__________________________________________________________
The lake was quiet.
Except for him.
The Admiral.
He came again.
Like always.
Once a month.
Never late.
Never welcome.
Selene sat across him — small legs crossed, hands on her lap, eyes cold.
He ignored it.
As he always did.
Plop.
He threw fish food into the lake — rough, careless — like throwing coins into a wishing well long forgotten.
"They're pathetic creatures," he said without looking at her.
Selene blinked.
"The fish."
"Look at them."
Another handful — thrown like a weapon.
"They fight for crumbs like beggars."
"They open their mouths for anyone with food."
"Even the one who will catch and gut them later."
He turned — sharp eyes cutting through her silence.
"A bit like nobles, isn't it?"
Selene's small lips twitched — not a smile.
Something colder.
__________________________________________________________
"Your mother..."
That name.
He said it without reverence.
Without fear.
Without softness.
"She never fed the fish."
He leaned back — arms on the bench — watching her like a wolf watches a cub.
"Tatiana Romanov — The People's Queen?"
He scoffed.
"A fool."
Selene's red eyes narrowed — a flash.
The Admiral grinned.
"There it is."
"The Romanov flame."
__________________________________________________________
"You want to cry?"
"You want to throw pudding again like some ballroom brat?"
Selene said nothing.
He stood, still watching the fish — voice low, venomous.
"Then cry."
"Throw it."
"Break something."
He turned, looming over her.
"Your mother was many things," he said flatly.
"A healer. A queen. A fool for love."
"But she was never—"
He jabbed a finger at her chest,
"—weak."
Silence.
The wind moved.
Selene's small hand clenched — knuckles white.
__________________________________________________________
Then —
The Admiral threw something at her feet.
A bronze cross on a flame star,
a royal crown on top.
In the center is the image of Saint George.
Carved. Honored. Uncommon.
On the arms of the cross is the inscription
TROUW TOT IN DEN DOOD (Loyal to death)
The Verzetskruis 1940
"For now — this is your stone."
"Let's see if you can throw it."
__________________________________________________________
That was their first lesson.
Not in swordplay.
Not in tactics.
But in hatred.
__________________________________________________________
Every month —
He came back.
Every month —
He mocked her.
Every month —
He challenged her.
"Climb that tree."
"Stab your finger with neddle"
"Balance on that rail."
"Memorize that map."
"Collect 100 stones"
And every time she failed —
He laughed.
Not kindly.
Never kindly.
Like a soldier laughs at a corpse that stood up again.
__________________________________________________________
Selene bled.
Fell.
Bruised.
But she never stopped.
Because this man —
This cruel, sharp, wolf of a man —
Was the only one who never lied to her.