The manor felt strangely hollow after the envoy departed, its long hallways holding the echo of too many unspoken emotions. Sebastian had withdrawn to his wing with a stiff nod, Dean had disappeared with a kind of quiet resolve, and the house finally exhaled.
Trevor and Lucas stood alone in their sitting room overlooking the city, neither speaking at first. The lights of Palatine glowed softly against the windows, steady and indifferent to the turning of their family's world.
Trevor rubbed the back of his neck, the exhaustion catching up with him in a slow wave. "I thought I'd be stronger when this day came," he said quietly. "Prepared, at least."
Lucas stepped closer, brushing their shoulders together. "We were prepared. Prepared doesn't mean ready."
Trevor let out a soft, broken laugh. "He's still so young."
"He's young," Lucas agreed, "but he's not helpless. And he didn't make the decision out of fear. He made it because he understood exactly what was at stake. That matters."
