Icarus leaned back in his chair, his wounds fully healed—but his heart, fractured and hollow, felt heavier than ever. His gaze drifted to the dried flower crown on his desk. Aria stood in front of him, her hands clenched by her side. The silence between them was heavy, but not tense—just filled with unspoken truths neither dared voice.
"I'll ask my assistant to escort you back to the North tomorrow," Icarus said quietly, not looking at her.
"I… I'm sorry," Aria said, her voice cracking just slightly.
"It's not your fault." His answer came too quickly, too soft. "None of this is."
She could see he meant it—but also that he was tired, defeated in a way she had never seen before.
"I'm still looking into the Shadow. Be careful—it can return at any moment."
She nodded solemnly, then turned to leave. As her footsteps faded down the hallway, Icarus looked once more at the dried flowers.
He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes.
The cold Northern winds greeted Aria like an old friend as she stepped out of the carriage. Without pause, she hurried inside and rushed toward one place—Theo's room.
She flung the doors open.
"Aria!" Abigel stood abruptly from his chair beside the bed, alarm flashing in his eyes. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. All good now." She gave him a tired but genuine smile before turning to the man sitting on the bed.
Theo, her uncle, leaned back against the headboard. He looked older somehow—weathered—not in body, but in soul. Yet his eyes lit up at the sight of her.
"My child," he said softly. "You've returned."
Abigel didn't hide it. "Father… can't use his aura anymore."
The words felt heavy in the room.
For a war knight like Theo, losing his aura was more than losing power—it was like a lion breaking its fangs. His battles were over, his role forever changed.
Still, Theo smiled.
"Thank you for saving me, Aria," he said. "At least now I have a little more time. Enough to help you both prepare… for whatever comes next."
Aria's throat tightened. The strength he once poured into swords and war, he now offered through wisdom and legacy.
She walked forward and gently placed her hand over his.
"Then let's make that time count, Uncle."
The news about Duke Theodore losing his aura spread faster than wildfire. But the North had already moved in silence.
Before the whispers reached the palace, the butler had sent a sealed letter—addressed to the Emperor himself. It detailed not just Theo's condition, but also a single name:
Abigel.
The next heir.
So when the royal carriage arrived with its blinding golden crest, no one was surprised.
What did surprise them was who stepped out first—Caisson, the Emperor.
Despite the crown resting on his brow, his expression was not of a ruler, but of a man... a father.
A father who had failed.
The room was filled with royals. Too many, in Theo's opinion. He hated attention—especially when it arrived only after he'd bled for it.
"Why didn't you let us know?" Caisson asked, standing beside his son's bed.
Theo lifted his eyes. Calm. Cold. The same stare he used in battle.
Let you know?
How ironic.
When he left the palace for the North as a boy with their maternal grandfather, not a single sibling protested. Not even Caisson himself. He was always the child in the background—the silent one in portraits, the shadow at the edge of the throne room.
And now they asked?
Before Theo could speak, the Crown Prince—Liam—cut in.
"And what's this about some random guy being named the next heir? I've never even seen him."
Theo didn't blink.
"Abigel is the heir. That's final."
He shifted in bed, pain etched into his skin—but his voice remained steady.
"As for why you've never seen him... you've never once visited the North. Not even when our grandfather died."
The silence that followed was sharp.
Aria, standing at the edge of the room, watched the royal family unravel in front of her.
What a broken mess, she thought.A family that only communicates when the kingdom is involved. No warmth. No ties. No soul.
Theo exhaled, the weight of years pressing on his chest.
"You all knew I inherited the same unstable aura as Mother. You knew it would eventually destroy me. That's why I stayed in the North. Not for exile—but for peace. I didn't need your pity then. And I don't want it now."
Kaelen arrived quietly, his usual armour absent. He had heard the news before dawn and made the journey immediately.
"What about your aura…?" he asked, voice raw.
Theo met his gaze.
"It's gone."
There was a pause.
"Aria saved me. I was already dying. The aura had begun to consume me. If not for her…" he didn't finish. He didn't need to.
No one spoke after that.
Because nothing they could say would undo what had already happened.And perhaps, deep down, they knew—it never should have come to this.
Selene was nowhere to be found.
Without a word of farewell, she had returned to the Southern Duchy—vanishing like a wisp of smoke. No one knew what she planned, but her eyes had held fire before she left.
Something unexpected was coming.
Everyone else had departed, one after another. Except Kaelen.
He stayed behind.
One more day.Just to be near his daughter again.
The halls were quiet now, filled only with the sound of his footsteps echoing off cold stone walls. His hand brushed the frames that lined the corridor, lingering on the familiar curve of a nameplate, the faded corner of a photograph.
The late Duke of the North and Empress Alexandra.
So many pictures of her—laughing, young, crowned, holding her children. From maidenhood to motherhood. A life frozen in moments.
Kaelen paused.
There was something haunting about this hallway.
To some, it might have a place to remember.
But to others, this was a hell.
A shrine to someone whose death had never truly been accepted.
And then there was Aria.
Her photos were there too—growing older, frame by frame, always smiling, always watched.
Theo had made sure of that.
From the moment she was born, he had collected these memories like sacred relics.Because Aria… was the mirror of Alexandra.
The same eyes.The same fire.The same burden.
Kaelen felt the weight of it settle in his chest.
Was that why Theo always protected her?Not just as a niece... but as a piece of someone he couldn't let go of?
He didn't know.
But it made sense in a painful, tragic way.
When he reached the office, he found Theo already seated behind the desk, though his posture was slumped, and his limbs weak.
Even now, with a crippled aura and aching bones, Theo clung to his responsibilities like a knight to his sword.
"You should be resting," Kaelen said softly, leaning against the doorframe.
Theo didn't look at him.
Instead, he stared out the window at the falling snow. The North was always cold, but this cold felt... final.
"It's time," Theo murmured, voice hoarse.