The Flare estate's inner sanctum was quiet, sealed behind layers of flame-forged formations. Simon Flare sat with his hands steepled, eyes sharp beneath a furrowed brow. Jana stood beside him, arms folded, her expression unreadable.
Ridge knelt before them, his posture rigid.
Jana spoke first. "What did you find out about the boy?"
Ridge opened his mouth, then paused. His jaw tightened slightly.
"It's… difficult to explain," he said. "It's better if I show you."
Simon gave a slight nod. "Proceed."
Ridge raised his hands. Threads of spirit light extended from his fingers, connecting to the patriarch and matriarch. He didn't speak again. He simply let them see.
For several minutes, the chamber was silent—only the flicker of lanterns and the faint hum of qi formations filled the space. Ridge's spirit sense poured into their spirit seas, relaying everything he had witnessed: Jalen slipping past the estate's outer wards, the confrontation at the ridge, and the impossible breakthrough.
Simon's fingers twitched when the assassin dropped mid-stride. Jana's breath caught when the qi storm cracked the Ridge. Neither spoke, but their auras shifted—tightening like drawn bows.
When the connection faded, Ridge lowered his hands. His breath was steady, but his heart wasn't.
He'd seen monsters before. But never one still growing.
Simon leaned back slowly, his expression unreadable.
"That boy," he said.
"Peak Enlightened Realm," Jana whispered. Her voice barely found breath. "Impossible."
"And yet," Simon murmured.
Jana's eyes narrowed. "Where is he right now?"
"I left him in the guest quarters," Ridge replied. "Resting."
Simon nodded once. "You can stop watching him."
Ridge blinked. "Sir?"
"The last thing we need is for a genius like that to become our enemy," Simon said. His voice was calm, but his mind was already moving. He could crush the boy with ease if it came to that—but he wasn't so insecure as to fear youth rising. No, he saw opportunity. Prestige. Legacy. "We'll find a way to bring him closer."
Jana said nothing, but her thoughts mirrored his. Only her approach was different.
She wasn't thinking of mentorship.
She was thinking of marriage.
—
Rana Flare stood in her mother's private chamber, arms folded, expression wary. The room was quiet, lit by the soft glow of a flame lotus blooming in a jade basin. The scent of cedar and smoke lingered in the air—familiar, but never comforting.
Jana Flare sat at a low table, pouring tea with practiced grace. She didn't look up.
"You called for me, Mother," Rana said.
"I did," Jana replied, calm as ever. "Sit."
Rana hesitated, then obeyed. She didn't reach for the tea.
Jana poured a second cup anyway. "You've spent time with the boy. Jalen."
Rana's brow twitched. "A little. He's… strange."
"Strange how?"
"Detached. Too calm. Like nothing touches him. He's strong, obviously. But he doesn't act like it."
Jana nodded, sipping her tea. "And you don't like him?"
Rana paused. "I don't know him."
"But you're curious."
Rana didn't answer.
Jana smiled faintly. "That's not a crime."
Rana narrowed her eyes. "What is this about?"
Jana set her cup down. "He's resting in the guest quarters. When he wakes, I'd like you to check on him."
Rana blinked. "Why me?"
"You're familiar. And he's… not the type to respond well to elders hovering."
Rana leaned back. "You want me to babysit him?"
"I want you to be present," Jana said smoothly. "Observe. Talk, if he's willing. Learn what you can."
Rana's jaw tightened. "So spy on him."
Jana's gaze softened, just slightly. "I'm asking you to be aware. That's all."
Rana looked away. "You think I can charm him into trusting us?"
"I think," Jana said carefully, "that you're one of the few people he hasn't dismissed outright. That matters."
Rana scoffed. "He barely tolerates me."
"And yet he saved your life," Jana said. "He didn't have to. He could've walked away."
Rana's voice dropped. "He didn't do it for me. He did it because he couldn't stand watching someone die."
Jana tilted her head. "And that doesn't interest you?"
Rana was quiet.
Then, more sharply: "You want me to get close to him. To make him trust me. And then what? Use him?"
"I'm not asking you to be someone you're not," Jana said. "Just… be open. Sometimes the strongest bonds don't start with affection. They start with friction."
Rana stared at the tea. "You're not saying it. But I hear it."
Jana didn't deny it. "I'm your mother. I want what's best for you. And for the family. Sometimes those things align."
Rana stood. "And if they don't?"
Jana met her eyes. "Then you'll choose. As you always have."
Rana turned to leave, her thoughts a tangle of heat and doubt.
She didn't say she'd go.
But her steps, when she left, didn't sound like someone walking away.