April 10th, 1810
Location: House of Ivanovich, Tsarigrad Citadel
Many days had passed since that fateful day when the truth finally came to light within the Ivanovich family—the truth about the child they had once called their own. From the outskirts of the grand, lavish domain of the Tsarigrad Citadel, several inquisitive carriages arrived, escorted by armed knights. At the very center of the procession stood a striking black steam car, its rear pipes exhaling thin streams of smoke into the cold air.
Emperor Graviil stood firm beside his two grandchildren, Aleksander and Violet, all dressed impeccably—as though expecting honored guests despite the chaos still raging in the world beyond the Citadel walls. Their faint smiles were polite yet subdued, unable to fully hide the weight of recent events.
All around them, servants, butlers, maids, and royal guards stood at attention, twelve meters apart on each side. Their silence and composure reflected both reverence and caution in the presence of the royal family—the King, the Princess, and the soon-to-be heir of the Grand Russian Empire.
And then, the moment came.
The doors of the black steam car opened gracefully, releasing a gust of wind that swept through the courtyard. Two familiar figures stepped out, their silhouettes catching the golden hue of dusk—none other than Teslaine and Miss Victoria.
A murmur of disbelief rippled through the onlookers. Graviil approached with a bright grin, his arms wide open. "Good evening, Lady Victoria! How was your long journey from London to Moscow? It must have been exhausting!"
Victoria bowed her head respectfully, her smile as composed as ever. "We are doing well, Your Majesty. It is truly an honor to stand before you, Emperor Graviil."
Graviil chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "No need for such formality. Please, call me Sir Graviil."
Victoria shook her head gently. "Oh, but I could never. As grateful as I am for your kindness, I wouldn't dare overstep such respect."
Her words carried genuine humility, and yet Graviil couldn't help but laugh heartily. "You overthink it too much. Truly, I insist—I am not one who clings to titles."
Victoria hesitated, then nodded. "I... understand, Sir Graviil."
As the air grew still again, Graviil's gaze shifted to the petite girl standing beside Victoria. Teslaine's eyes were distant—cold, as though the world itself had lost meaning to her. Kneeling slightly, Graviil softened his expression and asked gently, "Hey there. May I have the honor of knowing your name, Miss?"
Teslaine remained silent at first. Her gaze met his—steady, unreadable. The silence was deafening, heavy with everything unspoken. Victoria, standing beside her, could only watch in quiet guilt. She knew this silence well; it was the weight of betrayal. The truth of Teslaine's father—of the man he truly was—had shattered everything.
Graviil tilted his head, concern flickering in his voice. "Are you feeling unwell, dear?"
Victoria tried to step in. "No, she's just fatigued, Your Majes—"
But Teslaine's calm, icy voice cut through hers like a blade.
"Why did you bring us here?" Her tone was low, controlled, yet soaked in sorrow. "You went to great lengths to track us down. For what? What do you want from us?"
Graviil let her words hang in the air. His eyes softened further. He sensed the storm of emotions behind them—pain, anger, confusion. "Why do you think I would have malicious intent?" he asked quietly.
Teslaine's composure broke. "Because I can't trust you adults!" she burst out, her voice trembling with rage and hurt. "You lie, you deceive—you wear masks to hide who you truly are! And when those masks finally shatter, it's always us—the ones who believed in you, who loved you—left bleeding in the aftermath!"
No one dared to move. Even Aleksander and Violet froze where they stood. Her voice faltered, the anger giving way to a fragile tremor.
"I forgave Auntie for hiding the truth about Father because... because she loved me. But he didn't. He never did. I... I just don't want to be deceived again."
The air turned heavy. The servants lowered their heads. Victoria's chest tightened—she knew exactly who those words were meant for. Her throat burned with guilt, even though Teslaine's anger reached out to the ghost of Percival more than to her.
After a moment of silence, Graviil exhaled deeply. "Tell me, my dear," he said, voice gentle but firm, "do you think I am like Percival?"
Teslaine's eyes flickered. "I don't know you at all."
Graviil smiled faintly. "But I know you," he said. "I know that you are my family. And I would never mistreat my family... or the heavens themselves would curse me for it," he added with a warm chuckle.
Teslaine didn't smile back—but her gaze softened, just slightly. For the first time since stepping out of the carriage, her heart wavered.
Graviil's courtyard remained still, the faint echo of Teslaine's earlier words still lingering in the cold air.
"We're not family," she cut in, her voice low but sharp enough to sting.
"But we are," Graviil replied calmly, unshaken. "You are the daughter of my son-in-law's brother. That makes you family."
Teslaine's gaze fell to the ground, her shoulders trembling as she murmured, "But… we cannot be family. I'm the daughter of a monster."
"You're right," Graviil admitted without hesitation. "You are the child of Percival. And yet—even with all that your father has done to me, with all the grief and pain he caused me and those I love—I could never blame you for his sins."
He paused, his voice carrying a quiet, steady warmth. "My daughter and son-in-law were taken from me by Percival—not by you. You are just an innocent child, born into a world full of broken, foolish adults like your father."
Teslaine's cold expression faltered. Her eyes widened in confusion and disbelief. Father took his daughter from him? Then why… why isn't he angry? Why can't I feel any hatred from him? There was no malice in Graviil's words—only sincerity. That frightened her more than anger ever could.
Gently, Graviil rested his large hand on Teslaine's golden hair, his touch as soft as his tone. "To me," he said, "you are my granddaughter. Nothing less. So whether you hate me, distrust me, or feel resentment towards those who deceive you—it won't change how I see you, nor how I'll treat you. You are like Xavier to me—my deepest treasure."
Teslaine's heart trembled. She realized she hadn't truly been angry all this time—just lost, hurt, and uncertain. Yet somehow, his words felt like warmth breaking through the frost that had gripped her for so long. Why… does it feel comforting?
Tears shimmered in her eyes, and though she tried to hide them behind her calm mask, one slipped free. Graviil smiled faintly, proud yet tender. She reminds me of Anastasia, he thought, so brave and fragile all at once, carrying more than any child should.
"Say," he said softly, "you haven't told me your name yet, dear. May I know the name of my granddaughter?"
Teslaine hesitated, swallowing back her tears before speaking. "M-my name is… Teslaine Nikola… Ashford."
"Teslaine Nikola," Graviil repeated with a warm chuckle. "A beautiful name. But you needn't be afraid to say your surname, for you'll no longer be known as Teslaine Ashford, but as Teslaine Ivanovich. You are part of my family—always have been, and always will be."
Teslaine struggled to contain herself, tears spilling quietly down her cheeks. The warmth of the moment softened every heart present. Graviil bent slightly, brushing a tear from her face. "There, there," he said gently, smiling. "Grandpa's here. No need to hold back your tears."
"I'm not crying," Teslaine mumbled, embarrassed, her voice small and shaky.
"Is that so?" Graviil laughed, his own eyes glistening with joy. "Then your eyes must just be leaking pride."
Victoria, watching from nearby, couldn't help but smile—a real one, unforced and soft. Graviil's kindness toward Teslaine loosened something within her, easing the guilt she'd carried for so long. It was as if a curse she hadn't realized she bore was finally lifting.
Straightening his coat, Graviil regained his composure and turned toward the others. "Ah, forgive my manners," he said with a cheerful tone. "Let me introduce you to two of my greatest treasures. These two beside me are my beloved grandchildren—Aleksander, the eldest, and Violet, my little queen."
He playfully pinched Violet's cheeks, causing her to squeak. "Stop it, Grandpa!" she exclaimed, flustered.
"Oh, don't be so cold, Violet," he teased, chuckling. "This is how I show affection—by squishing these adorably fluffy cheeks of yours!"
Violet frowned and pouted, which only encouraged him further. Her expression was so adorably defiant that even the guards tried to hide their smiles.
Aleksander, ever composed, stepped forward to greet the guests. He bowed slightly before Victoria and Teslaine. "It's a pleasure to meet you both."
"The pleasure is mine," Victoria replied, her cheeks faintly pink. "You're far more handsome than the portraits and rumors make you out to be."
Aleksander chuckled modestly. "Well, they say the son always inherits his father's charm."
Victoria giggled softly, caught off guard by his calm poise. For the first time in what felt like ages, warmth—not sorrow—filled the halls of the Ivanovich estate.
Violet finally broke free from Graviil's overly affectionate grasp, dashing toward Victoria with her characteristic burst of energy. Her bright eyes gleamed as she exclaimed, "You look gorgeous yourself, Miss Victoria! Oh wait—should I start calling you Auntie now?"
Victoria chuckled, the tension she'd been carrying melting away in the face of Violet's warmth. "I'm flattered by your compliment, Violet. You can call me whatever makes you comfortable."
"Really?!"
"Yes."
Violet clasped her hands dramatically. "Then I'll call you Auntie Victoria! It sounds so classy!"
Victoria couldn't help but laugh, tears of amusement welling in her eyes. "Whatever you like, my dear."
Turning toward Teslaine, Violet's enthusiasm somehow grew even brighter. "It's been ages, hasn't it, Teslaine? How have you been?"
"G-great," Teslaine stammered, overwhelmed by Violet's boundless energy. She had never seen this side of her before—it was disarming, even shocking.
Without hesitation, Violet threw her arms around Teslaine, hugging her tightly. "Oh, you have no idea how excited I am to have a little sister! This is going to be so amazing! I can't wait to spoil you—I bet Xavier's going to be so jealous!"
Teslaine froze for a moment, struggling to breathe under Violet's fierce embrace, yet she didn't pull away. There was something oddly comforting about the warmth of this girl who barely knew her. Deep down, she realized—it was something she had always longed for. A sibling's affection.
Aleksander chuckled softly, kneeling beside them as he joked, "Looks like I'll have to worry about two Violets begging me to visit the bakeries every Sunday, huh? Guess I'd better start adapting now."
"HEY!" Violet exclaimed, cheeks flaring red. "That's top-secret sibling info! You can't just tell her that in front of everyone!"
"Sorry, sorry!" Aleksander said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. But his smile softened as he looked at Teslaine. At first, I was afraid I'd resent her, he thought. Afraid I'd see her as her father's child instead of her own person. But Grandpa was right—we can't blame her for the sins of others. She deserves better.
Gently, he placed his hand atop Teslaine's head again, ruffling her golden hair affectionately. "I'm truly grateful to have another younger sibling. I swear I'll protect you, and make sure you have everything your heart desires… little sister."
Teslaine blinked rapidly, her vision blurring as warmth flooded her chest. For once, she didn't fight it.
"So," Aleksander added with a grin, "how about a proper sibling day? Just us three."
"I THINK SO TOO!" Violet cheered, her excitement contagious.
Teslaine could only smile faintly, letting herself be swept into their joy. I've always dreamed of something like this, she thought. Maybe… just this once… I can believe it's real.
Around them, servants, maids, and guards quietly wiped their eyes. Even Viktor Mirovich, the ever-composed head butler, sniffled behind his handkerchief. "Ah, what a sight," he murmured with misty eyes. "It reminds me of the young Princesses, Fyodora and Anastasia. Such unbreakable bonds… not even His Majesty could compare."
From a short distance, Graviil watched in silence, a proud, gentle smile on his face. Victoria approached him, standing beside him quietly before asking in a careful tone, "So… how has Xavier been doing lately? I heard his heart had stopped that day. I was terrified something might've happened."
Graviil's expression dimmed slightly, though his voice remained steady. "He's holding on. Still in a coma since that fateful day—but alive."
"I see," Victoria whispered, lowering her gaze. "And Lady Anastasia? I haven't seen her in so long. I was hoping I might visit her."
Graviil turned his eyes toward her. "Why do you ask as if she's been punished?"
Victoria hesitated. "Because… of what happened with Xavier. She helped him flee—to some unknown place. Even if she acted under his orders, it could still be seen as treason. I just…" She took a quiet breath. "You're not planning to punish her, are you?"
Graviil stayed silent for a long moment, unsure how to respond. Even he didn't know how to handle this situation. She was still his daughter, yes—but his duty as Grand Ruler of Russia could not be ignored. The nobles and high-ranking politicians were already in heated debate, divided over what to do and how to ensure nothing like this ever happened again.
Xavier could have died. That fact alone made everything infinitely more complicated. And to make matters worse, Anastasia had willingly admitted that she and Xavier had been in contact with an underground espionage group—the Lantin Society. The same one Victoria once worked for. Despite their recent acts of justice—exposing corruption and even revealing Percival's true nature to the world—they were still an underworld organization. And that could not be overlooked.
Victoria's voice broke through his thoughts. "Once again, I used to work for the Lantin Society. So if Anastasia—one of your own maids—is to be charged for affiliation with an underground organization, then I should be as well, Sir Graviil."
She hesitated, then added, "I feel responsible. If I had sent them back when they first arrived, none of this would've happened. If I had warned my colleague, Adam, not to do what he did, Xavier wouldn't be in this state... and London wouldn't have been destroyed."
Graviil finally exhaled, his tone weary. "It's not your fault, Victoria. Nor do I hold hatred for your colleague, Adam. He did what he thought was his last option. Desperation is... a dangerous thing. He just wanted his son back. As a parent, I can understand that."
"But," Victoria countered quietly, "I should've realized sooner what he was planning. He was trying to use Xavier to lure out Percival—to trade him for his son. I've known him a long time... I should've seen it coming."
She looked away, her voice softening. "What he did went too far... but he didn't deserve to die. Not when he finally got to see his son, Caelen, even if only once."
Graviil's brow furrowed. "Speaking of his son... Caelen, was it? Lord Alcmena told me something strange about him not long ago."
Victoria blinked. "Lord Alcmena? You mean Xavier's cat—well, dragon? I still can't believe that little creature could talk. I nearly fainted when I saw him change forms."
Graviil chuckled, the tension briefly easing. "Yes, that Alcmena. He told me something I can hardly believe myself. He claimed that the boy, Caelen, is the reincarnation of Ulfberht—the Father of Blades."
"What?!" Victoria gasped. "That's impossible! There's no such thing as reincarnation!"
"I thought the same," Graviil admitted, rubbing his chin. "But when His Majesty spoke to me about it, his certainty was... unsettling. And when I compare everything you and Lord Alcmena told me—it all lines up too neatly. Why else would Percival personally come for a child he had no reason to care about? He never acts unless success is guaranteed."
Victoria crossed her arms, her mind spinning. "You're right... it's hard to believe, but after meeting a talking cat, nothing surprises me anymore."
Graviil's tone softened again. "I didn't get to meet the boy properly when we first crossed paths, but if what Lord Alcmena says is true... then perhaps the next generation of heroes is already being forged."
"Heroes?" she echoed.
"Yes," he said firmly. "There are forces out there beyond our understanding—beyond even our reach. It was only a matter of time before fate began shaping new protectors for this age."
Victoria nodded slowly. "I just hope our future doesn't look as grim as our past."
Graviil smiled faintly. "Don't worry too much. As long as I, the Grand Monarch—one of humanity's pillars—still stand, we will face whatever comes. Even past our prime, we four Monarchs will do everything we can to stop whatever Percival has set in motion."
Victoria stayed silent, gazing up at the evening sky. The clouds glowed faintly against the golden horizon, and the shimmering rings of Earth hung above them like halos. Graviil's voice broke the silence one last time.
"If there's anything you want of me, Victoria, don't hesitate to ask. I'll do everything in my power to grant it." He paused, meeting her eyes. "So—do you have anything in mind?"
Victoria thought for a long moment, her gaze softening as she looked toward Teslaine, who was being tended to by her new older siblings. A small, fragile smile touched the girl's face, and in that instant, Victoria knew exactly what she wanted.
"In that case," she said softly, "can I ask for a favor instead?"
"A favor?" Graviil asked, curious. "What would it be?"