Rin did not hesitate.
The moment he learned what had happened to Caelum, he entrusted the twins to the care of the maids with a brief but firm instruction—do not let them out of your sight—and turned on his heel. Whatever resentment still lingered in his chest, whatever distance he maintained from the royal world, it all fell away in the face of one simple truth.
Caelum had saved Riven.
This was a debt Rin would repay.
The room where Caelum had been placed was dim and sealed tight, curtains drawn to block the cold northern light. The air was heavy—sweet, cloying, unmistakable. Lavender saturated the space, thick enough to sting the back of Rin's throat.
Caelum lay half-curled on the bed, sweat dampening his hair, breath shallow and uneven. His hands trembled as they clawed weakly at the sheets.
When his unfocused gaze landed on Rin, panic flared instantly.
"You—" Caelum rasped. "You're not an alpha. Get out."
Rin remained where he was, calm as stone.
"Your Highness,What you need," Rin said calmly, setting his satchel down, "is not an alpha. What you need is to stop letting instinct run you into madness."
Caelum laughed weakly, the sound breaking apart halfway. "You don't understand—"
"I understand this better than you think," Rin cut in sharply.
For a moment, Caelum seemed about to snarl. Then his shoulders slumped, strength draining from him as if whatever he had been holding onto finally slipped through his fingers. His voice dropped, barely more than a whisper—no pride, no calculation left.
"…help me."
The word struck deeper than any shout could have.
Rin turned and left the room without another word.
Outside, he immediately demanded to see the vial Caelum's aide had brought—the suppressant that was supposed to prevent this very outcome. The vial was empty, but the faint scent clung stubbornly to the glass.
Rin lifted it to his nose.
And froze.
His expression sharpened.
"This isn't a suppressant," he said quietly.
The physician frowned. "What?"
"It never was," Rin replied. The herbs were subtle, layered—ingenious in a cruel way. It would dull pain, smooth the edges of transformation, make the body accept change faster instead of resisting it. Whoever had brewed this never intended to suppress anything.
"It accelerates manifestation," Rin said quietly. "And stabilizes the body just enough to survive it."
Silence fell.
A bitter laugh escaped him. "So the myths were true after all."
He had read of such things in old medical texts—half-burned pages dismissed as fantasy, warnings scribbled in margins by cautious physicians. Secondary genders were not meant to be altered. Nature resisted it violently.
But with the right catalyst…
Rin closed the bottle.
All those years spent studying herbs, pheromones, and rare reactions—mocked by others, dismissed as unnecessary obsession—had led him here.
He rolled up his sleeves.
---
The northern courtyard was already alive with movement when Alaric prepared to depart.
Armor gleamed beneath torchlight. Horses snorted clouds of steam into the cold air. Lucien issued commands with practiced ease, his earlier levity replaced by cold precision.
Before leaving, Alaric detoured quietly to the guest chambers.
The twins slept soundly, curled close together beneath thick blankets. Alaric lingered for a moment, gaze softening as he brushed a hand lightly over Riven's hair.
"Rest," he murmured.
When he went to another room to find Rin, the healer was already buried in his work—hands stained, sleeves rolled, expression sharp with focus.
Alaric paused.
Then, silently, he turned away.
---
The capital simmered.
By the time the queen consort returned from the funeral, her patience had long since burned away. Whispers followed her through the halls—sharp, unrelenting.
Where is Prince Caelum?
Why has he not appeared?
Why does the queen avoid the question?
Even her father ,the duke would not relent.
"What have you done?" he demanded when they were alone. "If something has happened to Caelum—"
"Enough," the queen snapped.
"You will answer me," he said coldly. "I am not some court fool to be dismissed."
Her gaze hardened.
That night, he was locked away—cut off from the outside world, his protests echoing uselessly against stone walls.
"My people will notice!" he shouted. "You cannot—"
She held up a familiar seal.
His seal.
"You should have guarded it better,dear father" she said calmly.
---
The court assembled at dawn.
When the queen entered, silence followed.
"From this day forward," she announced, voice ringing through the hall, "I will assume full authority."
Murmurs rippled.
One official dared to speak. "Your Majesty… the king's seal—"
"I do not need it," she replied coolly. "I am his wife. The queen consort."
She paused.
"No," she corrected. "From this day on, I am your empress."
Gasps followed.
"But before that," she continued, "I must cleanse this court."
She raised a hand.
"Seize every noble known to support Crown Prince Alaric. They are traitors—harboring conspirators."
A voice rang out. "And Prince Caelum?"
Her patience snapped.
"If you do not support me," she said sharply, "then say so."
She gestured.
Steel flashed.
Blood struck marble.
Screams filled the hall.
Then a guard burst through the doors, pale and shaking.
"Your Majesty," he gasped, "something is approaching."
The queen's brow twitched.
And once again , uncertainty flickered across her face.
---