The courtyard was silent again.
Rayan turned back to the children.
They were all staring.
At him.
Like he'd grown wings.
Like he'd just slayed a dragon.
He sat back down.
Picked up his tea.
And said gently:
"Now. Where were we?"
Kael stood at the northern balcony.
The wind tugged at his coat.
Below him, the rescued children played in the garden—some timidly, others loud and running. Rayan sat with Elian near the fountain, laughing softly at something Ash had said.
It looked peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Because peace, Kael had learned, was a thin skin stretched over a war not yet over
Vyra's words echoed still:
"I gave them your name."
She wasn't bluffing.
Kael had seen the documents himself.
Signed, notarized, sealed in gold.
Property Transfer of Genetic Host #014-C
Approved by: Lady Vyra Callan
Kael's fingers gripped the stone railing.
He didn't feel anger.
He felt clarity.
If she could sell her son, she could fund a hundred other programs.
