Aurora lay awake all night, watching over Vexion as she slept. The girl looked peaceful, almost delicate. Despite having lived for thousands of years and witnessing the full spectrum of cruelty, Aurora was rarely shaken. Yet, when it came to her son, Dante, nothing else in the world mattered. He was her greatest joy, the one pure thing in her life.
And now, she had hurt him.
She had spent years denying she was his mother, forcing him to live a life where he had to pretend he had no parents. Until now, she hadn't fully realized the weight of that pain.
While his siblings could proudly call their mothers "mother" in public, he could only do so behind closed doors. Was it any wonder he clung and bonded to Vexion?
Aurora exhaled softly, studying the girl's sleeping form. Vexion, unlike his family, never had to hide her devotion to him. Her loyalty was absolute. In just one day, she and Dante had formed an unshakable bond. It wasn't just gratitude—there was something deeper, something Aurora could but had difficulty fully to recognize.
She had been captured by barbarian tribes long ago. If not for Justin and Olive's desperate rescue, she might have suffered for years. Even after escaping, she had never forgotten what it felt like to be powerless, nor how much gratitude she felt toward her saviors. But that had only been one week of captivity.
Vexion had likely spent a longer time in chains.
Dante must have understood that, and to him, what they had done to her—what she had allowed—must have looked like they were forcing Vexion back into that same pain.
A heavy sigh escaped Aurora as she walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face before stepping into the shower. The warm water did little to wash away the guilt that clung to her. Once finished, she dried herself and returned to her chambers, only to find Vexion already awake, the bed neatly made.
The girl stood with her head bowed, speaking humbly, "Thank you, Madam, for healing my injuries and allowing someone like me to sleep in your bed. It has been years since I last slept on a real bed. If I made you uncomfortable, please forgive me." Aurora clenched her fists, silently cursing herself again.
She quickly dressed in her signature white and blue robes, adorned with the jewels befitting a Grand Concubine. Then, without hesitation, she stepped forward and pulled Vexion into a hug.
"I don't even know how to begin apologizing," she murmured. "It was my own foolishness that got you hurt in the first place." She pulled away slightly, meeting the girl's eyes. "Come, let's get you washed up and dressed. I'll have my maids help you get familiar with the palace—where you can and can't go. We'll also get your measurements and have an enchanter imbue your robes with protection, once you decide on a color. Alright?"
Vexion hesitated, unsure of how to respond.
Aurora sighed, shaking her head. "And don't apologize. Dante..." She trailed off, her expression clouding. "I don't think he'll forgive me or his father anytime soon. I've never seen him so sad before—so distant. And looking at you, I finally understand why."
Vexion opened her mouth to protest, to say she wasn't important enough to come between her master and his own parents. But the words never came.
Her value to Dante was just speculative, the more she was him the less she understood him. He was a shameless liar, a man who had no principles, did as he pleased, he was also very, inconsistent, sometimes he seemed like he cared other times he didn't. She knew he held her in high regard, she was important, but just as a subordinate.
She wanted to follow his path of disaster like warfare. His path, it was art. War, death, pain, cruelty, suffering, he seemed like it was effortless to bring it about, and he cared little about it. She wanted to emulate that level of deterrence, and strength.
But was she worth separating himself from his parents?
That was a hard no.
Yet …'I don't understand Master's Plans'
She had seen it before. Dante would threaten or even kill without hesitation when someone disrespected her. He had once been ready to cut down a dark elf simply for speaking to her in a way he disliked.
He had told her plainly: I will never let anyone bully you.
And now, that "anyone" included his own parents.
Vexion felt warmth spread through her chest at the realization. Does Master truly does care for me? ... Yet, at the same time, she understood something else.
Dante valued his parents—but not above himself. If they ever became useless to him, if they acted against his wishes, his desires, or his personal "code" whatever those were, he wouldn't hesitate to discard them.
That was just who he was.
A cold shiver ran through her as she recalled the way he had killed before—without remorse, without hesitation. There was something terrifying about him, something hidden behind that delicate, beautiful face of his. A cruelty so natural, so effortless, that only she had been allowed to see it up close.
Vexion's cheeks flushed at the thought, but she quickly pushed it aside.
She gave a respectful nod to Aurora.