Kael found his mother in the garden.
It was one of the few places in the palace that did not feel like Aethros. No banners. No weapons on the walls. Just stone paths, low trees, and a small pool where water moved slowly instead of violently.
Queen Seraphyne sat by the pool, her hands resting in her lap.
She did not look surprised when Kael approached.
"You didn't sleep," she said.
Kael stopped beside her. "Neither did you."
She gave a faint smile and reached for his hand. Her fingers were warm, steady. They always were.
"The king has spoken," she said softly.
"Yes."
"And the princes will move."
"Yes."
Silence settled between them.
Kael stared at the water. His reflection looked older than it should have. "He wants a head," he said. "Not victory. Not peace. Just proof."
Seraphyne's grip tightened slightly.
"He has always believed fear builds kingdoms," she said. "Your father does not understand what it costs."
Kael finally looked at her. "Do you?"
She met his gaze without flinching. "I do."
For a moment, Kael wanted to say everything. About the children taken. About the fire. About how something inside him felt wrong every time the drums sounded.
Instead, he asked, "If I don't become what he wants… what happens?"
Seraphyne stood. She placed both hands on his face, her thumbs brushing the faint marks of training scars.
"Then you survive," she said. "Even if it costs you everything else."
Kael swallowed. "He'll turn my brothers against me."
"I know."
"He may hunt me."
"I know."
"And if I fall?"
She pulled him into an embrace. Not the kind meant for a prince. The kind meant for a son.
"Then I will fall with you," she whispered.
Kael closed his eyes.
In a palace built on conquest, this was the only place he felt safe.