[Lavinia's POV—The Day of the Celebration—Morning—Two Days Later]
The palace was already buzzing with preparations—silk banners unfolding, musicians tuning their harps, nobles choking on their excitement—but I barely noticed any of it.
I sat in my private sunroom, tea steaming on the table, morning light spilling through crystal windows. Rey sat across from me, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who had probably not slept in two days.
"…So you're saying Haldor was brought to the orphanage when he was four?" I asked slowly.
Rey nodded, sipping his tea as if discussing the weather. "Yes. And he never got to bury his parents' bodies."
My brows furrowed deeply. "Why?"
Rey placed his cup down gently… then met my eyes. "Because… they never died."
Silence slammed into the room.
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice low and sharp.
