Within Freya Familia's inner hall, silence settled like a held breath.
The pace was the same as always with marble floors that reflected soft light. Luxurious curtains that filtered the outside world into something gentler—every detail existed to please her, but now something was wrong.
Her Familia stood before her, expressions heavy and subdued, resembling mourning—as though something intimate and irreplaceable had been taken from them.
Her fingers instinctively brushed the device around her wrist, making sure she was still wearing it after confirming. Her gaze shifted, and she began scanning the area, trying to locate Ottar.
He was not there. Realising this, she got a little confused, as Ottar was not someone who would disappear in front of her without telling her.
Freya's eyes narrowed slightly as she looked back at her children.
"Where is Ottar?" she asked.
A faint tension crept into the hall. It was almost imperceptible. But those who had served Freya long enough felt it immediately, like pressure before a storm.
But no one dares to answer
Freya tilted her head slightly, gaze sharpening as it passed over her children once more.
Before she could force anyone to speak, four sets of footsteps echoed in perfect unison. From behind her Familia, the figures emerged together. One step. Then another. When they reached the centre of the hall, they knelt as one.
"Lady Freya," they said, their voices layered, synchronised, and indivisible.
Freya's gaze fixed on them immediately.
The Gulliver Brothers kept their heads lowered. Kneeling was expected. The tension in their shoulders was not.
"Explain," Freya said calmly. "Why does it feel like you are organising a funeral?"
Her smile thinned, just slightly.
"Because news of your marriage," the eldest brother, Alfrigg Gulliver, finally spoke.
"Since yesterday, a rumour has been spreading that you intend to marry Luthar and leave Orario."
"And Ottar?" she asked again.
"He is investigating," they replied.
"Tracing the source of information."
As the conversation was going on behind them—
A sound broke through.
Soft. Suppressed. The faint hitch of breath drawn too quickly and released too slowly.
Freya's gaze shifted past the kneeling figures.
One of her children stood with their head lowered, hands clenched tight at their sides. Another had turned away entirely, shoulders trembling despite every effort to remain composed. He didn't dare raise his voice, just a tiny whisper.
"…Is it true?"
Freya's eyes narrowed.
The speaker swallowed hard, forcing the words out before courage failed them.
"You are going to marry him," they asked, voice shaking, "and leave Orario?"
The moment the words were spoken, the hall changed.
It was as if something fragile had shattered. Several members of her Familia stiffened, shoulders tightening, eyes lowering. A faint, broken sound escaped somewhere in the crowd—someone failing to hold back a sob. Others pressed their lips together, breathing shallowly, as though any sound might invite punishment.
No one dared look directly at Freya.
They held their breath close their eyes
Not because they were angry at her —but because they feared confirmation.
Freya paused for a second. Then she smiled.
Not a small one, but a full, radiant smile—the kind her Familia lived for, the kind that made the world feel gentler simply by existing.
The hall changed instantly. All the heaviness lifted, and shoulders relaxed. Breath returned. A few of them finally looked up despite themselves, relief rushing through them like warmth after a long winter. Someone felt embarrassed. Another one started wiping at their eyes, ashamed of ever doubting Freya.
They told themselves everything would be fine
It was Freya, the goddess, whom they were ready to give their lives for. How could she just leave with some random person? She wasn't such a heartless person.
She took a step forward, hands folding lightly before her.
"Really," she said softly, fond amusement threading her voice. "I didn't think you would find out so quickly"
Some of them almost smiled, confused by the warmth in her voice, before realising what she was speaking about.
Without caring about their emotion Freya continued speaking the most devastating words for Freya Familia's
"I did plan to marry Luthar," she said calmly.
"It's just that there is no time."
The words landed without force, making the entire hall go still.
Not because she stopped them from speaking—but because something fragile had finally broken. A few members almost collapsed on the floor. Others stood frozen, unable to reconcile with the meaning of harsh words.
Freya just tilted her head slightly, already thinking ahead.
"Hm," she mused, almost to herself. " I wonder if I should go back to heaven and make a few changes to my body."
She smiled again—bright, beautiful, but still taking away the warmth replaced by something hollow. Smiles froze. The relief that had bloomed moments ago curdled into stunned disbelief.
"After marriage," she went on, as if discussing a pleasant diversion. "Leaving Orario behind. Starting somewhere… quieter."
She watched them break.
A few looked at her as though she were announcing their death sentence.
But she didn't care. Her gaze flicked briefly toward the Gulliver Brothers.
"Tell Ottar to stop his investigation," she said calmly. "It wouldn't matter before everyone knew about this."
A few sharp breaths were drawn, and a few more collapsed.
As the Gulliver Brothers accepted the order, Freya turned away from the hall without another word.
Her Familia parted instinctively, heads lowered, no one daring to follow. The doors opened before her, heavy stone sliding aside as she stepped into the inner passage beyond.
Only one set of footsteps followed.
Alfrigg.
The corridor beyond the hall was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that existed only where violence had not yet arrived.
Freya took three steps.
Then the device in her pocket trembled.
Twice.
Understanding struck instantly. Her smile vanished.
Freya shifted sideways without breaking stride.
The shot tore through the space she had occupied a heartbeat earlier.
Stone exploded against the far wall, fragments screaming through the corridor in a violent spray. The sound cracked like thunder in the confined space, echoing through the inner halls.
Alfrigg moved instantly.
Steel flashed. His body was already between Freya and the direction of the shot, eyes locked down the corridor, senses flaring outward.
At the same moment, three presences moved.
The remaining Gulliver Brothers burst into motion from behind. One landed beside Freya without a word, immediately taking position.
Two of them were already accelerating, trajectories locked on the source of the shot.
The two brothers at her side guided Freya back toward the tower at once.
She glanced once at the shattered floor, expression unreadable.
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