Catherine's POV
I agreed to very little.
But I listened to everything.
Listening builds legitimacy faster than command ever could.
Later, alone, I allowed myself to sit.
Just sit.
The room was dim, lit by a single lantern. Its flame bent strangely, reacting to subtle currents beneath the stone old magic, slow and deep. I watched it for a long time, grounding myself in the mundane rhythm of breath and light.
Control is not about force.
It is about pacing.
About knowing when to pause long enough that others mistake it for mercy.
I thought of Aurora then.
Not with anger.
With frustration.
She believed restraint preserved moral authority.
She believed waiting would teach the world patience.
She was wrong not because restraint was weak, but because the world is impatient by nature. It does not learn lessons unless pain accompanies them. It confuses silence with surrender. It confuses faith with neglect.
If she won't act, then she has chosen irrelevance.
