"Mother Supreme," he said, his voice carefully neutral.
"This is unexpected."
"I'm sure it is," Wendelina replied. Her voice carried the same authority it always had, but there was weariness beneath it.
"And I'm sure your first instinct is to prepare for attack. I don't blame you for that."
She made a deliberate gesture—hands held out to her sides, palms up, showing she held no weapons and wasn't gathering power.
"But I'm not here to fight. I'm here to talk. To request something that will sound absurd, given our last encounter. But I need you to listen."
"Why should I?" Jaenor asked bluntly.
"You tried to execute me. Called me a threat that needed to be eliminated. Now you appear in my home asking me to listen?"
"Because I was wrong," Wendelina said, and the admission clearly cost her.
"About you, about the threat you represent, about many things. And because the realm is burning while I stand here defending my pride rather than accepting reality."
