His voice grew heavier. "But she didn't hate you. She never has. She just… didn't know how to be anything else but the daughter of war and the mother of vengeance."
Asher's eyes lowered, unreadable.
Arnold looked at him with quiet urgency. "I'm not asking you to forgive her. Only to understand her. Try. Talk to her, even if she doesn't talk back. You deserve to say what she never let you say before."
A long silence stretched between them before Asher gave a single nod.
"I'll try," he said quietly.
He stood, tucking the soul cultivation book under his arm. He didn't say anything else as he turned and walked toward the exit of the family hall.
Arnold watched him go, eyes shadowed but hopeful. He knew this next conversation wouldn't be easy—for either of them. But perhaps, just perhaps, it was time for more than strength to shape the Magnus line.
It was time for healing.
