Liseria sat in silence, her posture rigid, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Beside her, a bed stood still beneath the dim light, and on it, Kael lay asleep—his breath slow, his face serene. But her expression betrayed no such peace.
She could feel it. Ever since the first wave of auras erupted outside—ten fierce and merciless presences pressing against one defiant force—her mother's—Liseria had sensed everything.
Selene's aura had burned bright at first, a blazing sun against the storm. But something had shifted. Something had cracked. That defiant radiance had dimmed.
And now, a knot of anxiety twisted deeper and deeper in her chest.
She rose from her seat, pacing the room in growing frustration. Her noble composure crumbled with every passing second. This wasn't just fear—it was helplessness. Not because she lacked power, but because she had no right to interfere.
"What should I do…?" she whispered, her voice nearly breaking.
