The corridors of the manor felt different that night.
Not quieter—quiet was normal in the Mickelson estate.
But lighter.
As if the air was no longer holding its breath.
Servants moved in hushed confusion. Some stared at Selene with worried sympathy. Others dared to smile as the siblings passed, sensing a shift long overdue.
Selene walked steadily toward her chambers. Hyacinth stayed close, her arm still looped with Selene's. Hakeem and Vincent followed a few steps behind.
When they reached Selene's room, she turned to her brothers.
"I'll be all right," she said softly.
Hakeem squeezed her shoulder. "If you need anything—"
"I know," Selene said, eyes warm. "For the first time… I actually believe you."
Vincent gave her a crooked grin. "Try not to faint dramatically. I want at least a few hours of peace tonight."
Selene rolled her eyes, but her smile was real.
The brothers left, and Selene entered her room with Hyacinth. The door closed gently behind them.
---
Her wedding gown felt unbearably heavy. Hyacinth helped her out of the lace bodice, careful not to tug too hard. Once the gown slid to the floor, Selene inhaled fully for the first time in hours.
"It feels strange," Selene murmured.
"What does?" Hyacinth asked.
"Being… unbound."
Hyacinth draped a soft shawl over her shoulders. "You earned that freedom."
Selene sat at the edge of her bed, staring at her own hands. They trembled—not from weakness, but release.
"Today I thought I would break," she said quietly.
"You didn't."
Selene looked up, eyes shimmering. "Because you walked in."
Hyacinth's voice softened. "You walked out on your own."
Selene leaned her head against Hyacinth's shoulder, exhaustion pulling at her.
"I want to sleep," she whispered. "For a full night—without nightmares."
Hyacinth nodded. "Sleep, then. I'll stay until you do."
And for the first time since childhood, Selene slept not out of surrender…
but safety.
---
Later, with Selene resting peacefully, Hyacinth stepped out into the corridor.
Hakeem was waiting.
He stood against the wall, arms folded, expression softer than she remembered.
"You stayed with her," he said.
"She needed someone."
"So did I."
The quiet honesty of his words made her look away.
"How did you know to come back?" Hakeem asked.
"I didn't," Hyacinth said. "I only knew she was in pain. And I couldn't keep pretending I'd left everything behind."
A long pause stretched between them.
Hakeem stepped closer, but not in a way that cornered her. He kept space—tentative, respectful—like approaching something precious that might vanish if touched too abruptly.
"You shouldn't have had to come alone," he said.
"You couldn't have left then," Hyacinth replied. "Your father would have locked the gates."
He gave a humorless laugh. "He tried."
Hyacinth met his eyes. "I'm glad you're here. I wasn't expecting it."
"I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again," Hakeem admitted. His voice didn't shake, but the truth inside it did.
Hyacinth took a breath. "I didn't come back to reclaim you."
"I know." He swallowed. "But I hoped you'd come back anyway."
The corridor was dim, lit only by a lantern. Their shadows brushed the floor near each other, almost touching.
"I thought leaving you would keep you safe," Hyacinth said. "But I didn't think about how it would tear you apart."
"It nearly did."
He didn't say it dramatically. He said it plainly, like fact.
"And yet," he added softly, "you're here. You came back."
Hyacinth smiled faintly. "I did."
Hakeem's voice lowered. "So what happens now?"
Her fingers brushed the silver hairpin in her pocket.
"We face it," she said. "Together. Or apart. But we face it honestly."
Hakeem nodded. "I'd choose together."
She didn't answer with words.
But she didn't step away.
And that was enough.
Around the corner, Vincent leaned against a pillar, arms crossed.
He didn't intrude. He didn't tease.
He watched, thoughtful for once.
"About time," he muttered under his breath, but the smile on his lips was gentle.
---
Far from the children, in the duke's private study, the Duke and Duchess confronted the ruins of their own making.
The Duchess paced, trembling with leftover fury and disbelief.
"Did you see her? Standing there—refusing us—embarrassing us in front of half the noble court—"
"She gets it from you," the Duke said quietly.
The Duchess stopped. "From me?"
"Yes."
He rubbed his forehead. "You were not always like this. You used to fight for what you wanted."
"I married you," she snapped. "Was that not enough of a fight?"
Something flinched in the Duke's expression.
"This family needed discipline," he said. "Structure. Order."
"And look what it cost," she whispered. "Selene fears me. Hakeem despises you. Vincent avoids the house entirely. We didn't raise children. We raised soldiers."
The Duke's jaw tightened. "They still owe their loyalty."
"No," she said softly. "They owe us nothing."
The words hung between them like smoke.
The Duchess sank into a chair, face pale.
"What do we do now?" she whispered.
The Duke stared at the wall where the wedding banners still hung.
"We wait," he said. "And hope they don't abandon us entirely."
For the first time in decades, the Duke did not sound powerful.
He sounded frightened.
---
Later that night, the three Mickelson siblings sat together on Selene's balcony while Hyacinth slept on the chaise in the adjoining room, tired from worry and travel.
Vincent leaned back in a chair. "So, what are we calling this new era? The Rebellious Mickelsons? The Civil War? The Age of 'Absolutely Not, Father'?"
Selene laughed softly.
Hakeem shook his head.
Vincent grinned.
But beneath the humor was something warm. Something whole.
Selene looked out at the moonlit grounds, breathing in the cool air.
"I think," she said, "this is the first night I've ever felt like my life belonged to me."
Hakeem nodded. "It does."
Vincent raised an eyebrow. "And what about tomorrow?"
Selene's eyes glimmered with quiet strength.
"Tomorrow," she said, "we begin choosing everything we were never allowed to."
Hakeem looked toward the room where Hyacinth slept.
"Everything," he repeated softly.
Vincent smirked. "Well. This should be fun."
And for the first time in their lives, the siblings didn't fear the dawn.