The portrait—it was her aunt.
She had seen it countless times before, a familiar image that had always stirred a quiet sense of comfort within her. But here, in this place—this unfamiliar, hidden place—it made no sense.
Her aunt had no known connection to this house… to these people… to Tarvisium.
So why was it here?
The thought unsettled her.
Nothing about it fit.
The house itself, with its aged wooden beams and faded walls, seemed far too ordinary—too worn by time to hold something like this.
And yet—
There it was.
Hanging in plain sight.
As if it had always belonged.
Her footsteps echoed softly as she moved closer. Kai remained still beside her, his gaze fixed ahead, unmoving.
When she reached him, her eyes flickered between him and the portrait.
"Why is it here?" she asked quietly.
Kai didn't answer immediately.
His eyes remained on the painting, his jaw tightening slightly, as though the image held more than memory.
Then, at last—
"It's my mother."
A pause.
"Savanah Crone Lei."
Amara felt something inside her falter.
Her breath caught.
"That's not possible…" she whispered.
Kai turned to her, his expression calm—too calm.
"I know it's difficult to believe," he said. "But it's the truth."
Amara shook her head, stepping back.
"No… that's not possible," she insisted, her voice unsteady. "My aunt never married. She said she never would."
Her thoughts spiraled, refusing to settle.
"So how could she have a child?"
Kai didn't react to her panic.
"I don't see why it isn't possible," he said, his gaze returning to the portrait.
"My parents loved each other. After a secret marriage… they had me."
The words struck hard.
Amara felt the ground shift beneath her.
"No," she said, shaking her head again. "That portrait may be of my aunt… but you're lying."
She turned away, as if distance could make it less real.
That was when she noticed Ramsey.
He was already moving toward a raised desk, a stack of papers in his hand. With a sharp motion, he dropped them onto the surface.
The sound echoed through the chamber.
"You should see this."
Amara hesitated.
"What is it…?" she asked.
"It's not everything," Ramsey replied. "But it's enough."
There was something in his tone—firm, but not unkind.
Something that almost resembled hope.
Her steps were slow at first, reluctant.
But curiosity pulled stronger.
By the time she realized it, she was already standing before the desk.
The papers lay there.
Still.
Unassuming.
Yet heavy with meaning.
Whatever they contained—
It wasn't just proof.
It was truth.
Or a trap.
Amara reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as she picked them up.
Her eyes scanned the lines—
Then stopped.
At the end.
Your loving mother,
Savanah.
Her breath faltered.
Memories surfaced—clear and vivid.
She remembered sitting beside her aunt as a child, watching her write. Page after page, her handwriting flowing with effortless grace.
No one could replicate it.
Not even Amara.
Her aunt had tried to teach her once—
"Like this," she had said gently, guiding her hand.
But Amara had never been able to match it.
And now—
That same writing was before her.
Perfect.
Unmistakable.
There was no doubt.
This was her aunt's hand.
And believing that meant believing the truth.
"…to her child."
Amara's grip tightened around the paper.
Her vision blurred.
Because if this was real—
Then everything she knew was wrong.
Her eyes moved back to the beginning of the letter.
Slowly, she began to read.
Kai, my dearest son,
The most precious days of my life were the day your father and I exchanged our vows… and the day I first held you in my arms.
I still remember your laughter—so pure, so full of joy that it warmed my heart in a way nothing else ever had. Your father, bless him, was so jealous of that moment that he refused to leave your side for an entire week, determined to claim every smile for himself.
Now that you've grown into the man I always knew you would become, life has taken us in different directions. I miss you deeply, my sweet Kai. Not a day passes that I do not wish to hold you again.
But the Queen Regent has kept me confined to Durand.
It pains me to say this may be the last letter I ever write to you.
If this reaches you… I may no longer be alive.
Take care of yourself—and your father. You are both my greatest treasures.
And above all, my son—
Marry someone you truly love.
Do not live a life without joy. Even if you must hide that love from the world, as we did—choose it.
Love is precious. And fragile.
Find someone who understands you. Build a life filled with laughter and meaning.
Make memories.
Because memories are what remain when everything else is gone.
Live fully, my son.
Love fiercely. Laugh often.
And never let the world take your happiness from you.
That is my greatest wish for you.
Your loving mother,
Savanah
"How is this even possible…?"
Amara's voice trembled.
The letter slipped from her fingers.
Her eyes widened—not just with disbelief, but something deeper.
Something colder.
"If you still don't believe it…"
Kai's voice cut through the silence.
"…then this might."
He stepped forward, his movements calm and deliberate.
Then he revealed it.
A brooch.
Violet.
Amara froze.
Her breath caught instantly.
She knew it.
The piece her father had given to Savanah.
A gift meant to comfort her in her darkest days.
She remembered it clearly.
And now—
It was here.
In his hand.
Amara reached out slowly and took it.
Cold metal met her skin.
Heavy.
Real.
There was no denying it anymore.
This wasn't a lie.
This was truth.
And it settled inside her like stone.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze.
"Who else knows?" she asked quietly. "About her… about you?"
Kai didn't hesitate.
"Only a few," he said. "Those in this room… and a handful of others."
Silence followed.
Amara's thoughts spiraled.
How had no one known?
How had her own family remained unaware?
Slowly, she crouched down, gathering the scattered letters one by one.
There were many.
More than she expected.
Each one written in that same unmistakable hand—
Each one addressed to Kai.