Luca's pen stopped moving. He looked up from his notebook, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Hold on." He said slowly. "So she's just...born like that? From ashes? No pregnancy? No nine months of carrying a baby?"
"No pushing and screaming and—"
"Nothing like that, Hero."
Nyx shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips.
"The Queen is not born the way we are. She is chosen by the gods and delivered to her people in that sacred manner. It's why the Centaurs revere her so deeply—she is literally a gift from the divine."
Lulu, who had been listening with wide, sparkling eyes, suddenly clutched her mother's arm in a surge of anxious realization.
"Wait, wait, hold on!" She exclaimed, her voice trembling with sudden worry.
"Does that mean I was born that way too? Did I just pop out of some ashes one day!?"
Leona's laughter rang out soft and affectionate. She reached down, gently stroking her daughter's hair before poking her nose with playful tenderness.
