The atmosphere in the new Wynfall mansion was warm and peaceful as servants unpacked decorations and chefs prepared ingredients for Arlienne's birthday feast.
But despite the cheerful preparations, a heavy tension lingered in the air.
Aster read the queen's letter again, then folded it with a blank expression.
"Mama," he said calmly, "don't reply."
Arlienne stiffened. "Aster…"
He lifted his chin, silver eyes glowing with conviction.
"Let's see what she does. I'm not ignoring your birthday to sing for that woman."
Astra nodded immediately. "Exactly. Why should we?"
Aster continued, voice firm.
"If it comes down to it… we can leave this country."
Arlienne froze.
"Aster—!"
He looked at her gently.
"Do you remember? When Astra and I went to sing at the wedding in Newren Kingdom… the prince asked me about the songs."
Astra giggled. "He looked like a fanboy."
Aster smirked. "He was. And when he found out how young we were, he nearly fainted."
"And then," Aster said slowly, "he invited me to live with him—said he'd support my music in Newren if I ever wanted to move there."
Arlienne's eyes widened. "Son… it doesn't work like that. You can't just leave a kingdom so easily. Politics—alliances—royal image—everything matters."
"I understand," Aster said. "I'm not planning to run away."
His voice sharpened.
"But I'm also not letting anyone threaten our freedom."
Arlienne opened her mouth to reply—but then slowly closed it.
Her son was stubborn.
Her son was determined.
Her son was… a force she couldn't stop.
She exhaled.
"…Fine. I trust you."
Aster smiled softly. "Thank you, Mama."
***
The next morning, Aster sat at his desk, dipped a quill into ink, and wrote a reply to the queen.
One word.
*NO.*
No explanation.
No apology.
No justification.
Just a refusal.
He sealed the envelope, handed it to a messenger, and said:
"Deliver it directly to the queen's chamber."
The messenger paled when he saw the address but nodded reluctantly.
As the horse sped away, Astra stared at Aster with a mixture of awe and terror.
"You're scary sometimes," she whispered.
Seraphine laughed. "He gets it from father."
"No," Lyria said softly, "he's worse."
Aster smirked. "You haven't seen anything yet."
***
Word spread through the mansion quickly.
The queen asked them to perform.
Aster told her *no*.
Every maid, guard, and servant outside Arlienne's immediate circle quietly panicked for a full hour.
But strangely…
None of Aster's sisters tried to stop him.
Instead, Seraphine crossed her arms proudly.
"You did the right thing. She deserved it."
Lyria brushed her hair back. "I've wanted to tell that woman 'no' for years. Thank you for doing it for me."
Arlienne sighed, rubbing her temples. "This family is going to cause an international incident…"
Astra hugged her from behind. "Mamaaa, it's fine. Nothing bad will happen."
Arlienne muttered under her breath:
"That's exactly what people say right before something bad happens."
***
Meanwhile, Aster and Astra continued preparations for Arlienne's birthday celebration.
They invited:
- A few friendly nobles
- Merchants close to Liora Arcwell
- Engineers who worked on the music player
- Childhood friends from the capital
- Some street vendors Aster befriended when he was five
- And even a few common families who supported them since their first concert
It would be a mixed gathering—nobles and commoners together.
Something the queen hated.
Something Aster *loved*.
"We'll make this the best party Mama ever had," Astra said enthusiastically.
Aster smiled. "We will."
They decorated the garden with floating lanterns.
Set up a sound system using the newest Harmonia speakers.
Prepared a surprise performance—three soft songs just for their mother.
Everything felt perfect.
Everything felt peaceful.
Until—
A loud knock echoed through the mansion.
Three sharp bangs.
Urgent.
Forceful.
Everyone froze.
Arlienne looked toward the front door.
"…Who is that?"
A maid hurried to answer it.
Moments later, she returned, trembling.
"M-my lady… there is a messenger from the palace…"
Aster's eyes narrowed instantly.
Astra grabbed his wrist.
Seraphine's expression darkened.
Lyria swallowed nervously.
Arlienne inhaled deeply.
"Let him in."
The palace messenger entered the hall, sweating heavily. He bowed so deeply his forehead nearly touched the floor.
"L-Lady Arlienne… His Majesty requests…"
Aster raised a brow.
"His Majesty?"
Not the queen?
The messenger gulped.
"Yes… the king himself requests—"
He held out a sealed envelope.
Arlienne hesitated, then took it.
Aster watched her closely.
She slowly broke the seal…
But right before she opened the letter—
A gust of wind blew through the hall.
The candles flickered.
Aster felt something in his chest twist.
Something ominous.
Something dangerous.
Something inevitable.
Astra gripped his hand tighter.
"Aster… does something feel weird?"
"Yes," he whispered.
Everyone held their breath as Arlienne slowly unfolded the king's letter.
And—
***************************
The apology:
The entire mansion fell silent as Arlienne finally unfolded the king's letter.
Aster, Astra, their sisters, and the servants all watched her face closely.
Her eyes moved across the lines…
slowing…
darkening…
hardening.
She exhaled quietly and lowered the paper.
Aster stepped forward. "Mama… what did he say?"
Arlienne's voice was calm. Too calm.
"…He says that the queen wishes for you two to attend her birthday celebration."
Astra frowned sharply.
"And you? What about *your* birthday?"
Arlienne held up the letter.
"He says… that after celebrating the queen's birthday, we can celebrate mine in the palace as well."
Everyone froze.
Arlienne continued reading aloud, her tone flat:
*'I apologize for not inviting you to palace balls in the past.'*
*'Please come with your children.'*
The room stayed silent.
Aster stared at her, waiting.
Arlienne finally lowered the letter fully.
"That's all."
Astra's eyes widened in disbelief.
"That's all?!"
Seraphine scoffed loudly. "He's asking you to walk into the palace like nothing happened for eleven years?!"
Lyria shook her head. "Unbelievable…"
Aster clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
"So the king wants us to celebrate the queen's birthday first… and THEN yours? As if yours is an afterthought?"
Arlienne smiled sadly.
"He is trying to make peace, Aster."
Aster's teeth ground together.
"No. He's trying to avoid angering his queen."
Arlienne looked away.
Aster continued, voice low and sharp:
"He didn't even bother to come here in person."
Arlienne stiffened.
Aster's voice rose.
"He calls us his children, but has he visited us ONCE in eleven years."
Astra stepped closer to him.
"Aster…"
Aster looked at Arlienne with frustrated eyes.
"Mama, they call him a wise king. But if he truly cared, why send a letter? Why not come himself?"
Seraphine muttered under her breath:
"Because he's just a lapdog to the queen…"
Arlienne didn't correct her.
For the first time, she didn't defend him.
Her expression was tired. Worn. Hurt.
She looked down at the letter again.
"…He didn't even write my name properly."
Astra's heart stung.
Aster's anger darkened.
And then—Arlienne quietly tore the letter down the middle.
Rip.
Another rip.
Seven more.
Until the "wise king's" words lay scattered across the floor like worthless scraps.
She dusted her hands as if removing dirt.
"It's nothing serious," Arlienne said softly. "Let's focus on moving to the new house tomorrow. That is what matters."
Aster stared at her.
Astra stared too.
Their mother was gentle.
Patient.
Kind.
But this moment—
This quiet, bitter moment—
Was the angriest they'd ever seen her.
Arlienne turned to them with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"We will celebrate peacefully. Just us. As a real family."
Aster approached her slowly.
"Mama… are you really okay?"
Arlienne brushed his cheek.
"Yes. I am used to it."
Aster's eyes trembled.
Used to what?
Being ignored by the palace?
Being overshadowed by the queen?
Being treated like an inconvenient ornament despite raising royal children alone?
Arlienne forced a soft smile.
"Don't worry. Let the palace do as it pleases. It's nothing serious."
But Aster knew.
Astra knew.
Their sisters knew.
It *was* serious.
Because the queen was not someone who accepted rejection quietly.
Because the king was not someone who stood against her.
Because the twins had already drawn enormous attention from the nation.
Because the queen's reputation would suffer if her own stepchildren refused her invitation.
And because—
Aster's letter said only one word:
*NO.*
The palace would not ignore that.
Not the queen.
Maybe not even the king.
***
Still, Arlienne insisted on moving forward as if nothing was wrong.
The rest of the day was filled with preparation:
- Packing special items
- Setting decorations aside
- Arranging transportation
- Planning the birthday feast
- Preparing the new house for the celebration
Astra decorated lanterns.
Aster tested the Harmonia Player's speakers.
Seraphine arranged a gift table.
Lyria prepared flower garlands.
Arlienne supervised everything with a soft smile.
But beneath her smile…
Aster could see the sadness.
He hated it.
Hated seeing her hurt.
Hated seeing the palace treat her like nothing.
Hated the queen's arrogance.
Hated the king's weakness.
He stood on the balcony overlooking the capital as the sun set.
Astra approached quietly.
"Aster… are you angry?"
Aster didn't answer immediately.
He closed his eyes, breathing deep.
"…I'm furious."
Astra took his hand and squeezed it gently.
"Then let's make Mama's birthday unforgettable."
Aster looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
Astra smiled—soft, bright, mischievous.
"We're singers, Aster. Let's give Mama a gift no queen could ever steal."
Aster blinked.
Then smiled.
"Yeah… you're right."
***
(When the queen received Aster's letter)
But far away, deep inside the palace…
Two people were not smiling.
A servant knelt before the queen.
"Your Majesty… the prince and princess have refused your invitation."
The queen's face went cold.
"…What did you say?"
"They… they replied with a single word…"
He hesitated.
The queen's eyes sharpened.
"Speak."
The servant swallowed hard.
"N–No."
The cup in the queen's hand shattered.
Red wine spilled like blood across the white carpet.
Her voice was ice.
"Send word to the king."
She stood slowly, expression twisting.
"If the twins wish to defy me…"
Her smile was venom.
"…then let us see how long their little independence lasts."
And the storm began.