Arlienne's fingers trembled slightly as she held the opened letter.
Aster and Astra watched her anxiously, waiting for the words that would decide the peace of their new home.
Arlienne finally exhaled.
"…This is not from the king," she said quietly.
Aster's eyes narrowed. "Then who?"
Arlienne looked down at the paper again.
"It's from the queen."
The entire room froze.
Even the air seemed to tighten.
Astra felt a chill run down her spine. Seraphine and Lyria, who were helping prepare decorations for Arlienne's birthday, both stopped breathing for a moment.
"What… does she want?" Aster asked carefully.
Arlienne swallowed.
"She requests that you and Astra perform… at her birthday celebration."
Aster blinked.
"…Her birthday is in two days."
"Yes," Arlienne whispered.
Aster's jaw tightened.
"But *your* birthday is also in two days."
Arlienne nodded.
"And she knows that."
Suddenly the tone of the letter felt much clearer.
Colder.
Sharper.
The queen wasn't simply inviting them.
She was commanding them.
Forcing them.
Demanding their presence in a way that ensured Aster would have to choose between:
*Honoring his mother's birthday…
or obeying the queen.*
Astra trembled with anger.
"Does she think we'll abandon Mama's birthday? After everything?!"
Seraphine clenched her fists. "She's always hated you both. This is just another way to hurt your family."
Arlienne sighed, closing the letter gently.
"She wrote… 'Your queen commands you. Please prepare several songs.'"
Aster felt his blood boil.
The queen knew:
- That Arlienne's birthday was the same day
- That Aster had built this house with his own money
- That they had prepared for the celebration for months
- That the twins had stopped doing large-scale performances
- That they were finally independent
And yet—
She wanted them to *sing for free*,
in her palace,
and ignore their mother's birthday.
Aster's expression darkened.
"Unbelievable…"
***
They hadn't done a public concert since they were eight. Arlienne had forbidden it after Aster fainted.
But that didn't mean they never performed again.
There were smaller moments.
Aster remembered singing three gentle songs at the daughter of his mother's merchant friend (Liora Arcwell) birthday. A small family gathering. Warm. Cozy. Simple. They didn't even want payment.
The merchant offered money, of course, but Aster shook his head.
"It's a birthday gift," he said.
Their voice brought smiles. That was enough.
Then came the invitation from the richest man in the neighboring nation.
A grand wedding.
Tens of thousands attending.
Aster and Astra were offered *50 million necrons*.
Enough for a normal family to live on comfortably for ten whole years.
Aster hesitated.
He wanted to see another country.
He wanted to perform again — safely this time.
And the payment was… astonishing.
So with Arlienne's cautious permission, they traveled.
Aster remembered the hall filled with flowers.
Astra remembered the laughter, the dancing.
Their voices lit up the wedding like fireworks.
It was perfect.
And they performed with pride because—
They were treated with respect.
Every other performance afterward followed that rule:
*They would sing if — and only if — they were treated with dignity.*
And now?
The queen demanded their presence.
Demanded their songs.
Demanded their obedience.
For free.
Aster's fists tightened.
"We aren't court entertainers," he said coldly.
Astra nodded fiercely. "And we are not going to ruin Mama's birthday."
Seraphine stepped forward.
"You two shouldn't go. The queen will use you. She'll make fun of your mother. It's a trap."
Lyria added softly, "She'll humiliate you if you say no… but if you say yes, she'll humiliate you anyway."
Arlienne looked at all of them.
Her eyes were gentle.
Her smile was soft.
"Children… whatever you choose, I will support you."
Aster turned sharply.
"No. This is YOUR birthday. The queen is doing this *because she wants to hurt us — and you.*"
Arlienne touched his cheek.
"Aster… I am proud of you. And I don't need a grand celebration for my birthday. I only need the two of you."
But Aster shook his head.
"That's exactly why we won't go."
Astra stood beside him.
"We've worked for years to become independent. We're not under the royal family's mercy anymore."
Arlienne sighed. "But she is still the queen. Disobeying a royal order is—"
"—not disobedience," Aster cut in. "It's standing our ground."
Arlienne blinked.
In that moment, Aster didn't look like an eleven-year-old.
He looked like someone far older.
Someone who had lived twice.
Astra squeezed his hand. "Aster, what will we do?"
Aster inhaled slowly.
He looked at the letter.
Looked at the elegant new mansion.
Looked at the decorations prepared for their mother's birthday.
Looked at Arlienne, who sacrificed everything for him.
And his decision was absolute.
"We are not going."
The room fell silent.
Astra nodded immediately. "Right!"
Seraphine clapped, delighted. "As expected of my cute siblings!"
Lyria sighed in relief. "Good… I was scared you'd feel pressured."
Arlienne didn't smile.
Instead, worry clouded her face.
"Aster… Astra… the queen will not let this go."
Aster looked at her with calm determination.
"I know."
Astra held onto him tighter.
"So what will you do, Aster?"
Aster's expression sharpened.
His voice lowered.
And with a quiet intensity, he said:
"I'll send her a message… she'll never forget."