Aldric's question did not come out harshly, but there was weight behind it—curiosity sharpened by protectiveness, by the quiet fury of a brother who had spent too long hearing of his sister's suffering from afar.
Aurelia did not answer immediately.
Instead, she lowered her gaze to her hands, which were folded neatly in her lap, her fingers lightly intertwined as though holding herself together.
The silence stretched just enough to be noticed, but not long enough to become uncomfortable.
For a fleeting moment, the confident queen who commanded halls and faced councils without flinching seemed to slip away, revealing something softer beneath—the girl he had grown up with.
The one who used to run barefoot through the palace gardens, laughing too loudly, unconcerned with dignity or expectation.
"It wasn't something I understood at first either," she admitted softly, her voice steady, though touched with reflection.
She drew in a small breath before continuing.
