The Winter Palace stood on the outskirts of Ganglen, nestled within a snowy grove. Its pale blue walls shimmered with embedded mana crystals, a gift from Duke Arhenius to his son on his fifth birthday. Now, it was a refuge.
As the carriage rolled through the iron gates, guards rushed to secure them. Massive wooden beams dropped into place behind Luenor's retreating carriage, sealing the palace like a fortress.
Luenor was ushered into his private chambers. He barely noticed the guards bowing or the hurried servants. All he saw was his mother—Rhea Sureva—rushing toward him.
She pulled him into an embrace, and Hera, his elder sister, joined them.
"Mom... why is everyone so angry with us?" Luenor asked, voice small.
Rhea bit her lip. She had no answers that wouldn't shatter him. "They're scared. And when people are scared, they do foolish things."
"But what are they scared of?"
Rhea knelt to his level, brushing his hair from his eyes. "Of your father. Of our name. They think we've done something wrong."
Luenor frowned. "Father didn't do anything."
"I know," Rhea said softly. "But the world doesn't always wait for the truth."
Paul stepped into the room. "My lady, we must act. The city is boiling. Other territories are joining the revolt."
Rhea stood, her face steeling. "Hunter?"
"Riding toward the Estate. He hasn't reported back."
Rhea turned to Hera. "Take care of your brother. I must go."
Luenor panicked. "No! Don't go! What if they—what if—"
Rhea kissed his forehead, then Hera's. She unclasped her family crest necklace and pressed it into Luenor's palm.
"Keep this. No matter what happens, remember that we love you."
Before Luenor could protest further, she was gone, escorted by Paul through the rear passage. He stood there, silent, staring at the necklace. Hera pulled him close, her arms around his shoulders.
"She'll come back," Hera whispered.
Luenor didn't respond. Deep down, he wasn't so sure.