The mood shifted in an instant; panic rippled across every face.
"What is happening in the forest?" Selene demanded. Neither of her brothers answered right away. At last Caisson spoke, measured but evasive. "During the hunting tournament something unexpected occurred. They're handling it." It was not exactly a lie.
Selene's eyes narrowed. She knew when words were meant to soothe rather than inform. "Where is my daughter?" she asked, hard as steel.
"Selene… Icarus is sorting it out. She'll be fine—Alwin is with her," Liam said, voice tight.
"Explain what is going on before I lose my mind," Selene snapped.
Theo sighed and told them what he could. As the scene in the tent shifted into hurried plans, Selene felt a silver heat flare within her—her aura, bright and dangerous.
"Selene—" Caisson began, reaching for her, alarmed by the shimmering light. "Not now. We must wait—"
But Selene was never one to wait. Her hand curled into a fist. "I will find the bastard who did this," she said, eyes blazing, "while you sit here and cower." Then she turned and strode out of the tent.
Selene's eyes swept over the gathered nobles, reading their whispers without hearing them. Some feigned concern, others lowered their gaze in false humility, but she could taste the greed hiding beneath their courtesy. The South Duchy was a fortress of wealth and power—won with her own blood and blade when she crushed the war at the borders in her youth. Caisson had gifted it to her then, sealing her place among the kingdom's pillars.
But power always bred envy.
She remembered too well the fate of Lord Basil, the traitor who once ruled the South. His hunger for a crown had driven him to sell the kingdom's secrets to their enemies. He thought himself clever—until his allies turned their swords on him. With no army left, he fled like a rat into the shadows, his name cursed ever since.
Now, his ghost still lingered in the nobles before her. Old ambitions dressed in new robes. Their eyes told her everything: if Aria, her only heir, were to vanish, the South Duchy would fracture. The wolves would descend, tearing apart all she had built.
Selene's silver aura shimmered faintly at her shoulders, restrained but trembling with the weight of her fury. "Let them scheme. Let them hunger. If they even dream of touching my daughter, I will show them what true ruin is."
Theo made his way down into the palace dungeons, the torches guttering as he passed. The Black Knights clustered near the cell, voices low and nervous—an uneasy chorus that scraped at the stone.
"His aura… it's black. He's dangerous."
"We should kill the child before he brings ruin."
"He'll be the end of the kingdom."
"You are not my son… you are a demon."
The words slithered through the air like vipers, but Abigel didn't seem to hear them as words. He sat huddled in the corner, eyes vacant, the whispers folded into his mind until they were indistinguishable from his own thoughts. Umbros curled protectively about him, the shadow-magic thrumming with a low, mournful keening as it tried to soothe its master. "Enough." Theo's shout cracked like thunder in the stone hall. It snapped the room's tension into a dozen tiny pieces. Abigel's head jerked up, and for a single breath the hollow in his eyes met Theo's.
"The whispers… they're lies," Theo's voice cut through the dungeon like steel. "You know it, Abigel. They are nothing but voices clawing at your mind. Are you going to give in? Are you going to prove to this world that I made a mistake by choosing you?"
For a heartbeat, it seemed like the boy didn't hear. But his trembling hands stilled. His breathing shifted.
"My son," Theo pressed on, lowering his tone now, firm but steady, "you still have someone to protect. Do you remember the promise you gave me? You were so young then, I thought you'd forget when you grew older."
"I… I still remember," Abigel whispered, his voice hoarse but real.
"Then keep it. Help them find her. Stay with her, even if you cannot touch her. I know you can." Theo's cloak swayed as he turned, already moving toward the stairs. "Selene is awake."
The words hung in the air like a spark in the dark. Abigel closed his eyes, his mind clearing as the poison of the whispers ebbed. Umbros pressed close, its shadow curling warm around him.
"Master…" the familiar murmured.
"Take me there," Abigel commanded, voice steadier now.
And that was all Umbros had ever wanted to hear.