The carriage was long gone. Prince Leif and Emmy had taken it when Tait took off into the night with the girl he thought he'd never see again.

That left him and Delphi to walk the long road back to the Selene Manor. Frost clung to the grass at the road's edge, and their breath hung silver in the cold air. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called two low notes swallowed by the dark. It should have taken over an hour. It felt like minutes. They walked side by side, awkward at first, as if neither knew how to speak to the other anymore. Ten years was a long time. Too long. But slowly, words began to fill the silence. The crunch of gravel beneath their boots kept rhythm as Tait told her about the family. About the Empire. About everything she had missed.

House Selene, The Moonlit Shadows. Their lineage stretched back to the founding of Elysium itself. Officially, they trained knights alongside House Helios, producing the elite protectors of the royal family, House Hyperion.

Unofficially…

They trained Shadows. Spies. Assassins. Ghosts who slipped between borders. While House Ersa gathered secrets for the Empire, House Selene's Shadows stood at their backs.

Delphi listened quietly, her expression unreadable beneath her hood. The wind picked up, tugging at her cloak and carrying with it the faint scent of smoke from the common houses. Tait's voice warmed as he spoke of his own role. "I'm responsible for guarding the crown prince now."

Delphi raised a brow. "You? Babysitting royalty? You used to complain about escort duty more than anyone."

He shrugged, adopting a light, teasing tone that didn't quite hide the strain beneath. "Crown Prince Roddrick is surprisingly easy to babysit."

Delphi recognised it.He was trying desperately to keep things light. To pretend that everything was normal. She appreciated it more than she could say.

"So," she said, matching his tone as best she could, "if you hate royal duty so much… did someone at the palace catch your eye?"

Tait stumbled over his own feet.

Delphi blinked. "Oh. There is someone."

His cheeks flushed a deep red, visible even in the moonlight. "There is. But neither of our parents will ever acknowledge it."

Her teasing faded instantly. "Tait… I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

He reached out and took her hand. Her fingers were calloused. Strong. But still small in his. "Such is life," he said softly, with a sage nod that didn't match the shimmer of pain in his eyes.

They walked the last stretch in silence, only the whisper of wind through almost skeletal oaks to mark their passage.

The manor rose before them, vast and elegant, carved from pale stone that glowed under the moonlight. Wind stirred the bare branches lining the path; their shadows stretched like fingers across the courtyard. The faint scent of smoke drifted from the servants' quarters. The gates loomed tall and imposing, wrought iron shaped with crescent moons and stars. Guards patrolled the walls, their boots crunching against gravel, armor catching the faint silver glow of the lanterns.

Tait stopped. "Ready?" he asked.

Delphi's breath hitched. Her face had gone pale. Her hands trembled in his. "For this?" she whispered. "Not now. Not ever."

Tait squeezed her hand, his voice gentle but unyielding. "You're not alone anymore."

But Delphi's eyes, cold and haunted, told him a different truth.

~

Tait managed to sneak Delphi through the manor's side entrance, weaving her through servant corridors, then through unused hallways where dust gathered in the corners and moonlight cut pale rectangles through the windows. Finally, they reached his room. He pushed the door open and ushered her inside.

"I'm going to find Jonas," he said, breathless with urgency. "He needs to know you're here. That you're home."

Delphi nodded. "Where are Mother and Father?"

"At the palace for a few days. End-of-year harvest reports, trade agreements, the usual heir-level torture." He rolled his eyes. "You know, boring stuff." He tried to smile. It didn't reach his eyes. Then he was gone.

Delphi exhaled slowly and looked around the room. The air smelled of cedar and old leather, familiar, almost comforting. Once, it had been a battlefield of wooden swords, toy soldiers, and discarded clothes. Now it was dignified, almost elegant. A large bed with neatly tied curtains, two sofas upholstered in deep navy velvet arranged around a polished coffee table, and a fireplace waiting patiently for flame. Dust motes drifted lazily in the sliver of moonlight slipping through the drapes.

She walked toward the fireplace. Heat stirred within her heart, traveling down her arm. A soft glow pulsed at her fingertip before a controlled burst of flame leapt out, catching the logs instantly. The fire roared to life, crackling, hungry. Warmth rolled across her face, and the scent of burning pine filled the room.

"This is a much better place than that inn," a voice said behind her. "Why couldn't we just come here from the start?"

Hope padded up beside her, tails swaying lazily. "I would trade every inn in the world for a glowing fire."

"Historically, House Selene never used fires," Delphi murmured. "Light plays tricks on you. And there's no point jumping at shadows when the ones made of flesh and blood are more dangerous."

Hope huffed, unimpressed.

"Will you tell them the truth?" she asked quietly.

The air thickened. The fire popped, sending a spray of embers up the chimney.

"Not all at once," Delphi said, staring into the flames.

Hope placed a paw gently on her leg. "Mother," she whispered.

The door opened. Delphi's breath caught. Tait entered first, his expression tight with barely contained anger. Behind him came a man slightly taller, with broader shoulders and the same silver-white hair, but cut much shorter. Gold eyes, but none of Tait's warmth.

Jonas.

He wore his status like armor. Charcoal coat, tailored with military precision, silver buttons catching the firelight. A white cravat pinned with onyx. Silver cufflinks shaped like crescent moons. Every thread, every detail, announced exactly what he was: heir to House Selene, and unafraid to remind anyone who forgot.

Delphi was suddenly, painfully aware of her own appearance. She looked like a beggar standing before a lord. Which, she supposed, wasn't far from the truth.

His boots struck the floor with sharp, deliberate clicks. His presence filled the room like a cold draft, pushing back the warmth of the fire.

"You are certainly more convincing than the others who tried to insert themselves into this house," he said. His voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. "But I've seen too many fakes to be swayed by appearances."

Delphi had expected this. It didn't make the sting any less sharp. She fought the urge to walk out the door and never return. But the brief time with Tait, his hope, his trembling relief, anchored her.

She owed him this much.

Delphi lifted her chin and met Jonas's cold gaze. "Every morning, when I got out of bed, I would do what you called 'my silly, slow dance.'"

Jonas's eyes widened.

"Even though I told you over and over it wasn’t a dance," she continued, "you insisted that I would perform it at my debutante instead of dancing with a partner."

Jonas stepped back. The tension drained from his face, replaced by something raw and shaken. His hand found the back of the sofa, steadying himself.

"No one knew that," he breathed. "No one. None of the imposters could show me Delphi's silly dance."

Tait sank onto a sofa with a triumphant huff. "I told you."

Jonas sat heavily beside him, the velvet rustling beneath his weight, while Delphi took the seat opposite. He rubbed a hand over his face, gathering himself. The fire crackled in the silence.

He gazed briefly at Hope warming herself by the fire and chose to ignore that question. "Where have you been all this time?"

Delphi looked down at her hands. "It's a long story. One I will share with you. But I don't want to repeat it over and over. So either we wait for our parents… or you can repeat it to them." Her tone left no room for argument.

The brothers exchanged a look.

"If we speak openly with Mother and Father, Emmy will need to be involved," Jonas said slowly. "I don't think that's wise right now."

"Who is Emmy?" Delphi asked. A memory of the girl she had saved in the alley flashed in her mind.

Tait fidgeted, clearly leaving the explanation to Jonas.

"Emmy was adopted six years ago," Jonas said. "Her father was a baron in our territory. Mother took her in as there was no family left. They bonded over their grief. She is our sister. And.." He hesitated. "And Emmy is unofficially engaged to Prince Leif. I'm sorry, Delphi."

Delphi's face remained unreadable, but her hands tightened in her lap. Her nails pressed crescents into her already injured palms.

She and Leif had promised each other marriage as children. A childish vow, perhaps, but one she had at first clung to in the darkest places. Her only shining hope in a sea of shadows and death.

She exhaled softly. "Thank you for telling me."

Then she lifted her gaze, and the firelight flickered in her cold, haunted eyes. The logs popped and hissed. Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the windows.

"Now," she said, "I will tell you about Hell."