{ the next day } ♡
The Southern Delegation's gardens were a lush, sensory explosion of jasmine and rare orchids, a stark contrast to the severe, stone hewn corridors of the Northern-influenced Royal Palace. Under the watchful but distant eyes of the guards, Lorcan led Aiden through a maze of topiary tigers and silver-leafed trees.
"Look, Aiden!" Lorcan pointed to a hidden alcove behind a weeping willow. "My father says this is where the old secrets are kept. Before the Great War, they used this garden to send messages through the roots."
Aiden, always the seeker, crawled into the dark, damp space beneath the willow's branches. His small fingers brushed against a loose stone in the low garden wall. With a sharp tug, the stone gave way, revealing a small, rusted iron box.
"Lorcan! Look!" Aiden pulled the box out, his blue-amber eyes wide with excitement.
The two boys huddled together, their heads nearly touching. Lorcan pried the lid open with a small silver dagger he'd "borrowed" from his father's desk. Inside wasn't gold or jewels, but a stack of delicate, preserved parchment and a small, dried flower,a wild jasmine.
"It's a letter," Lorcan whispered, his eyes scanning the faded script. "It's addressed to... 'My Little Serpent.'"
Aiden tilted his head. "That's what the bad…I mean, what the King,calls me sometimes in his head. Papa says he's a serpent."
Lorcan's face went pale as he read further. "Aiden... this isn't a secret about the war. It's a letter from Queen Celine. It's a message to her son. It says... 'Do not let the chemicals steal your heart. The Jade Heart is a cage, but your blood is a song.'"
The boys sat in silence, the weight of a dead mother's warning hanging in the air. For Aiden, it was a confusing scrap of history; for Lorcan, it was proof that the terrifying King had once been a small, loved boy.
***
While the children unearthed the past, Arion stood on a balcony overlooking the gardens, his hands gripping the stone railing. He was joined by Duchess Maeva. She had been living in the Eastern Wing for months, her presence a silent, steadying force for Arion, but they had rarely spoken of the man who kept them there.
"You're watching him," Maeva said, her voice soft but piercing. She wasn't looking at the children; she was looking at Kyon, who stood in the courtyard below, watching the willow tree where the boys had disappeared. He didn't approach; he simply stood in the shadow of a pillar, a silent guardian.
"I'm watching a predator wait for its moment," Arion replied, his voice brittle.
Maeva turned to her son, her eyes searching his face the lingering hardness, the exhaustion, and the subtle, confusing shift in his scent. "Arion, look at him. Really look at him."
Arion looked. Below, Kyon had picked up a fallen wooden tiger that Aiden had dropped earlier. He was brushing the dirt off it with his thumb, his movements slow and almost reverent. There was no one around to impress, no courtiers to deceive. He looked profoundly alone.
"He gave us the Eastern Wing," Maeva continued. "He allowed Torvin to resume his training. He hasn't touched you in anger or desire since the night of the marriage. And Arion... he hasn't looked at the Jade Heart in weeks. It sits on his desk like a common rock."
"It's a tactic, Mother," Arion insisted, though his voice lacked its usual conviction. "He knows you're watching. He knows I have the logbook."
"A man who is playing a tactic does not weep in the nursery when he thinks the guards are asleep," Maeva said firmly. "I heard him, Arion. I went to check on Aiden three nights ago, and the King was on the floor, his head against the crib, sobbing like a child who has finally realized he is lost."
Arion felt a jolt of discomfort, a painful resonance with the "Architect's Confession."
"He is a monster who is trying to grow a heart," Maeva concluded, placing a hand on Arion's shoulder. "The question isn't whether he is changing, Arion. The question is whether you are brave enough to let him. You can hold that logbook like a shield until you both die of old age, or you can decide if the man standing in that courtyard is the one you want your son to call 'Father.'"
Arion looked back down at the garden. At that moment, Aiden and Lorcan burst out from under the willow tree, clutching the rusted box. They ran straight toward Kyon, shouting about "Queen Secrets."
To Arion's shock, Kyon didn't recoil or command them to be silent. He knelt in the dirt, his expensive silks staining, and opened his arms as Aiden collided with him. Kyon's face transformed ,the cold, porcelain mask shattered into a look of such raw, agonizing relief that Arion had to turn away.
"He's not his father," Arion whispered, the words feeling like a betrayal and a release all at once.
"No," Maeva agreed, watching her grandson laugh in the arms of the Serpent King. "He's yours. If you'll have him."