The entire mansion fell silent as Arlienne finally unfolded the king's letter.
Aster, Astra, their sisters, and the servants all watched her face closely.
Her eyes moved across the lines…
slowing…
darkening…
hardening.
She exhaled quietly and lowered the paper.
Aster stepped forward. "Mama… what did he say?"
Arlienne's voice was calm. Too calm.
"…He says that the queen wishes for you two to attend her birthday celebration."
Astra frowned sharply.
"And you? What about *your* birthday?"
Arlienne held up the letter.
"He says… that after celebrating the queen's birthday, we can celebrate mine in the palace as well."
Everyone froze.
Arlienne continued reading aloud, her tone flat:
*'I apologize for not inviting you to palace balls in the past.'*
*'Please come with your children.'*
The room stayed silent.
Aster stared at her, waiting.
Arlienne finally lowered the letter fully.
"That's all."
Astra's eyes widened in disbelief.
"That's all?!"
Seraphine scoffed loudly. "He's asking you to walk into the palace like nothing happened for eleven years?!"
Lyria shook her head. "Unbelievable…"
Aster clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
"So the king wants us to celebrate the queen's birthday first… and THEN yours? As if yours is an afterthought?"
Arlienne smiled sadly.
"He is trying to make peace, Aster."
Aster's teeth ground together.
"No. He's trying to avoid angering his queen."
Arlienne looked away.
Aster continued, voice low and sharp:
"He didn't even bother to come here in person."
Arlienne stiffened.
Aster's voice rose.
"He calls us his children, but has he visited us ONCE in eleven years."
Astra stepped closer to him.
"Aster…"
Aster looked at Arlienne with frustrated eyes.
"Mama, they call him a wise king. But if he truly cared, why send a letter? Why not come himself?"
Seraphine muttered under her breath:
"Because he's just a lapdog to the queen…"
Arlienne didn't correct her.
For the first time, she didn't defend him.
Her expression was tired. Worn. Hurt.
She looked down at the letter again.
"…He didn't even write my name properly."
Astra's heart stung.
Aster's anger darkened.
And then—Arlienne quietly tore the letter down the middle.
Rip.
Another rip.
Seven more.
Until the "wise king's" words lay scattered across the floor like worthless scraps.
She dusted her hands as if removing dirt.
"It's nothing serious," Arlienne said softly. "Let's focus on moving to the new house tomorrow. That is what matters."
Aster stared at her.
Astra stared too.
Their mother was gentle.
Patient.
Kind.
But this moment—
This quiet, bitter moment—
Was the angriest they'd ever seen her.
Arlienne turned to them with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"We will celebrate peacefully. Just us. As a real family."
Aster approached her slowly.
"Mama… are you really okay?"
Arlienne brushed his cheek.
"Yes. I am used to it."
Aster's eyes trembled.
Used to what?
Being ignored by the palace?
Being overshadowed by the queen?
Being treated like an inconvenient ornament despite raising royal children alone?
Arlienne forced a soft smile.
"Don't worry. Let the palace do as it pleases. It's nothing serious."
But Aster knew.
Astra knew.
Their sisters knew.
It *was* serious.
Because the queen was not someone who accepted rejection quietly.
Because the king was not someone who stood against her.
Because the twins had already drawn enormous attention from the nation.
Because the queen's reputation would suffer if her own stepchildren refused her invitation.
And because—
Aster's letter said only one word:
*NO.*
The palace would not ignore that.
Not the queen.
Maybe not even the king.
***
Still, Arlienne insisted on moving forward as if nothing was wrong.
The rest of the day was filled with preparation:
- Packing special items
- Setting decorations aside
- Arranging transportation
- Planning the birthday feast
- Preparing the new house for the celebration
Astra decorated lanterns.
Aster tested the Harmonia Player's speakers.
Seraphine arranged a gift table.
Lyria prepared flower garlands.
Arlienne supervised everything with a soft smile.
But beneath her smile…
Aster could see the sadness.
He hated it.
Hated seeing her hurt.
Hated seeing the palace treat her like nothing.
Hated the queen's arrogance.
Hated the king's weakness.
He stood on the balcony overlooking the capital as the sun set.
Astra approached quietly.
"Aster… are you angry?"
Aster didn't answer immediately.
He closed his eyes, breathing deep.
"…I'm furious."
Astra took his hand and squeezed it gently.
"Then let's make Mama's birthday unforgettable."
Aster looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
Astra smiled—soft, bright, mischievous.
"We're singers, Aster. Let's give Mama a gift no queen could ever steal."
Aster blinked.
Then smiled.
"Yeah… you're right."
***
(When the queen received Aster's letter)
But far away, deep inside the palace…
Two people were not smiling.
A servant knelt before the queen.
"Your Majesty… the prince and princess have refused your invitation."
The queen's face went cold.
"…What did you say?"
"They… they replied with a single word…"
He hesitated.
The queen's eyes sharpened.
"Speak."
The servant swallowed hard.
"N–No."
The cup in the queen's hand shattered.
Red wine spilled like blood across the white carpet.
Her voice was ice.
"Send word to the king."
She stood slowly, expression twisting.
"If the twins wish to defy me…"
Her smile was venom.
"…then let us see how long their little independence lasts."
And the storm began.