Crown Prince's Chambers, Aethercastle
Orion sat on his desk, his foot fidgeting restlessly as his hands held his head.
"Ha…." A sigh escaped his lips.
Knock… knock…
"Your Highness, Lady Glykeria is here to have an audience with you." A gentle voice pierced the door.
"Please Escort her inside Silvia." Orion stood up gently from his desk, slightly adjusting the painting made by Grandma Suri on it.
"I wished I had an artifact to skip meetings like this and go forward in time…"
"Please escort her in, Silvia."
The door opened with practiced grace. Silvia entered first, bowing lightly, followed by Lady Iris Glykeria.
"Thank Mother Seraphyx for watching over you," Iris said softly as she inclined her head. "You look well, Your Highness."
"And you look…" Orion paused, forcing a smile. "As radiant as ever, Lady Iris. Mother Seraphyx seems fond of you."
Her lips curved faintly at that — unreadable.
"Silvia," Orion added, turning slightly, "could you ensure we aren't disturbed for the next hour?"
Silvia hesitated only a fraction of a second before bowing again.
"As you wish, Your Royal Grace."
The door closed behind her with a muted click.
Silence settled.
Orion's smile faded almost immediately.
"Is this another meeting meant to reassure the court?" he asked quietly. "To remind them that our engagement is still intact?"
Iris stepped forward — only one pace — her expression softening.
"I hear weariness in your voice," she said. "But please believe me when I say I've never wished harm upon you."
"Then drop the formalities," Orion sighed, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. "There's no one listening now."
She hesitated, then sat on the corner of his desk, folding her hands in her lap.
"I trusted you once," Iris said. "That trust hasn't changed. If anything… it's grown heavier."
Orion looked up.
"Heavier?"
"There are things I didn't tell you before," she continued, her gaze lowering. "Not because I wanted to deceive you — but because I was afraid that knowing would place a burden on your shoulders."
He frowned.
"You already told me about the man you loved. Your… consort."
"Yes." Her fingers tightened briefly. "But that was only the surface."
Orion's posture straightened. "What else is there?"
Iris drew in a careful breath.
"When I met him," she said, "he was nothing more than a courtesan. Gentle. Clever. Afraid."
A pause.
"People like that don't survive long in places like Red House District unless they learn how the world truly works."
Orion listened, silent.
"He began collecting favors. Names. Debts."
Her voice remained steady. "At first, it was just information — a way to stay alive. But information has weight. And weight attracts men who want to bury their sins."
Orion's brow furrowed. "Iris… are you saying he's involved in—"
"In things you would despise," she said softly. "Yes."
The word slavery was never spoken.
It didn't need to be.
Orion stood abruptly. "Then this needs to be brought to the Crown. To my father—"
"If you do," Iris interrupted gently, not moving to block him, "they will panic."
He stopped.
"Men who profit from secrets don't flee," she continued. "They erase evidence. And people."
Orion's hands clenched.
"You're asking me to stay silent."
"I'm asking you to understand the cost of speaking," she replied.
He turned to face her. "Why involve me at all?"
Her eyes finally met his.
"Because you're the only person who knows," she said. "And because I believed you wouldn't let innocent blood be spilled just to preserve your conscience."
The words hit harder than any accusation.
"There was a shipment scheduled this week," Iris added quietly. "It didn't happen."
Orion's breath caught.
"Why?"
"Because I said you knew."
A pause.
"And because I trusted that you would keep my secret."
The room felt suddenly smaller.
"I don't want this," Orion said hoarsely. "Any of it."
"I know," Iris replied. "That's why I came to you — not as a fiancée, but as someone standing at the edge of something irreversible."
He looked away, jaw tight.
"I don't need you to save me," she said at last. "I only need you not to make things worse."
Silence stretched between them — heavy, binding.
Orion closed his eyes.
"…I won't tell anyone," he said.
Iris inclined her head, just slightly.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For not straining your hands of blood."
Ah the scene is getting really heavy… lets look somewhere else to lighten the mood.
Sira's Bakery, Main Market, Arian Core
"Hey, ADAM! Are you here?"
A young boy stepped into the bakery, hazel eyes scanning the shelves and counters with open concern.
"Boreas?" Sira emerged from the kitchen, apron dusted with flour, thick gloves still on her hands. "If you're looking for Adam, he ran upstairs earlier. He's upset we couldn't make it to the festival's first day."
Boreas froze for half a second — then nodded quickly.
"Th-thank you, Sis Sira. I'll go see him."
His dark cloak swayed as he hurried up the stairs, cheeks faintly pink.
Sira watched him go, amused.
"Kids these days… so shy."
Adam's Room
Adam lay sprawled on his bed, humming softly.
"The world will remember what the frost has begun…"
He paused, staring at the ceiling.
"…What does that even mean?" he muttered. "Does the world forget things easily?"
Knock.
The door opened almost immediately.
"Hey! I heard you didn't come to watch the performance," Boreas said, stepping inside. "Are you upset? I could dance for you if you want."
Adam pushed himself up, frowning.
"I told you already, Boru. I don't want to see your dance. I wanted to hear Mrs. Adora sing."
Boreas groaned. "Stop calling me that."
He flicked Adam's forehead.
"Ow—!" Adam lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of Boreas's sleeve. "You hit me!"
The bed creaked as they tumbled sideways, laughter breaking through their protests.
"Let go!" Boreas hissed, trying — and failing — to pull free.
"Apologize first!"
Boreas wriggled, then jabbed Adam in the ribs. Adam yelped and released him long enough for Boreas to shove him back onto the mattress.
"I told you," Boreas said smugly, breath a little uneven. "That name will follow me to my grave."
"You're dramatic," Adam shot back, grinning despite himself. "And you're heavier than you look."
Boreas blinked. "Hey—"
Back in the Bakery
The bell chimed softly as a small girl stepped inside.
"Nobody's here…"
Tea stood on her toes to ring it properly.
"Coming," Sira called, wiping her hands as she stepped out. "Ah — Tea. Looking for your brother?"
"Yes," Tea said, peering at the display. "Mother told me to remind Boreas to come home before the moon rises."
"He's upstairs with Adam."
Sira slid a pastry onto a plate and handed it to her.
"Here. On the house."
Tea's eyes sparkled. "Thank you, Sis Sira."
She sat down, finishing it faster than she meant to.
"…Where's Grandpa Tywin?"
"Evening walk," Sira replied, already cleaning the counter. "We'll close soon and head out ourselves."
Tea nodded, hopping down. "I'll remind Boreas then."
Adam's Room
Laughter spilled into the hallway — then stopped abruptly.
Tea paused at the door.
Inside, Adam and Boreas had collapsed onto opposite sides of the bed, both catching their breath, sleeves rumpled, hair a mess.
Neither noticed her.
Tea quietly closed the door.
…Oh.
She turned and padded back downstairs.
Bakery
"Did you find him?" Sira asked.
Tea climbed back onto the chair, legs swinging.
"…I think I'd be a third wheel."
Sira blinked.
"A what?"
Tea shrugged.
"Never mind."
Sira frowned, then returned to her work — still puzzled.