Valerian waited until the Dowager Queen lowered herself back into her chair.
The shock still clung to her—etched into the tightness of her shoulders, the way her fingers curled around the armrest as though it were the only thing keeping her grounded.
For the first time that night, Aelira looked less like the formidable matriarch of Virelia and more like a woman who had just realized how close the world she knew had come to collapsing.
Valerian exhaled deeply.
The storm outside softened, the thunder retreating into distant murmurs, as if the sky itself sensed the shift within the room.
He moved then, crossing the small distance between them, and sat beside her. Not across. Just right Beside her. A gesture he had not made since boyhood.
"For all that has happened," he said quietly, "there is something you should understand."
Aelira did not look at him at first. "I am listening."
