The afternoon sun turned the training yard gold, but Ezekiel barely noticed. His arms ached from drills, his head swam with everything that had happened, and his chest still felt tight from watching Lanastha destroy Marius Ventrel with a single look.

Rue walked beside him as they left the yard, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his dagger as always. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said quietly.

“I think I did,” Ezekiel muttered. “Except the ghost is my mother.”

Rue gave a short, amused breath. “She has that effect.”

 They ducked into a side hall lined with windows. The light painted Rue’s sharp features in gold and shadow. “You’re thinking about what she did to Ventrel, aren’t you?”

Ezekiel nodded. “She… scared him so much. And he’s older than you. Older than me well, this body, anyway.”

“That’s what happens when you cross a Bonaventura in public,” Rue said. “Lanastha doesn’t let anyone question her blood. Not yours. Not her own.”

Ezekiel hesitated, voice low. “Did you… know my father?”

Rue’s eyes softened. “A little. Not well enough to tell stories, but well enough to know he wasn’t like most nobles. He smiled at servants. Treated people like they mattered.”

The words made something ache in Ezekiel’s chest. “Mother never talks about him.”

“She probably can’t,” Rue said. 

“Not without bleeding.” Then, with a half-smile: “Ask Edric at dinner. He’s not nearly as careful with his words.”

That evening, Ezekiel sat at a long table with only two others: Lanastha at the head, still in her red dress, and Edric on the opposite side, freshly bathed and wearing a flimsy white shirt . The candles threw their crimson eyes into sharp relief.

Lanastha ate little, as always, sipping her wine more than touching her plate. Edric, on the other hand, ate like a soldier fresh from campaign.

“So,” Edric said after a long silence, “how’s the arm holding up, Ezekiel?”

“Sore,” Ezekiel admitted.

“Good. Means you’re learning.” Edric grinned, glancing at Lanastha. “Though I’m guessing my sister’s teaching style hasn’t softened in the years I’ve been gone.”

“She’s effective,” Rue murmured from where he stood behind Ezekiel’s chair, earning a sharp look from Lanastha that he pretended not to notice.

Edric leaned back in his chair, turning serious. “Ezekiel, you’ve been asking about your father, haven’t you?”

Lanastha’s fork stilled midair, but she didn’t interrupt.

“I didn’t know him as well as I knew Lana,” Edric continued, eyes distant, “but I knew this he loved her. And he loved you, even before you were born. He and Lana thought they could outmaneuver the Emperor, but…” Edric’s grin faded. “You can’t outmaneuver obsession forever.”

“Edric,” Lanastha said sharply.

He held up his hands. “I’m not telling him anything dangerous, sister. I’m just saying our parents will want to meet him soon.”

Ezekiel blinked. “Your parents?”

“Our mother and father,” Edric said. “Your grandparents. They’ve been waiting to meet you. Now that you’re here, well… they won’t wait long.”

Lanastha’s expression didn’t change, but Ezekiel caught a flicker of something in her crimson eyes.

 not fear, exactly, but caution.

“They’re not like me,” Edric added with a grin. “Or Lana. They’ll probably smother you with questions and gifts. Enjoy it while you can.”

Ezekiel tried to imagine grandparents who were kind, who wanted to see him. The thought felt warm and strange — and dangerous, in this house of snakes.