The man remained silent.
"No na. No ho. No family." Rhaegar’s voice was calm, almost indifferent, as though discussing nothing more significant than the weather beyond the prison walls. "Unable to show your face, unable to acknowledge your kin, unable even to take a wife or raise children. Hiding from place to place like a rat surviving in the shadows."
His gaze sharpened slightly. "Was it worth it?"
At last, Osvald’s expression shifted. "Soone like you would never understand."
"I understand everything." Rhaegar looked at him steadily. "You remained alive because soone wanted you alive. There is still another hand behind all this."
Osvald clenched his jaw. "There is no one."
Rhaegar watched him silently for a very long ti. Then, he turned and walked toward the door.
At the threshold, he paused.
"Treat his wounds."
The prison guard stared in astonishnt.
"My lord?"
"Treat them," Rhaegar repeated coolly. "Do not let him die."
And with that, he departed.
Behind him, Osvald stared at his retreating figure, sothing unreadable flickering through his eyes.
Crazy bastard...
***
For days, Lady Lian could find no peace of mind.
Ever since hearing Rhaegar ntion the capture of a surviving mber of the Grandien family, she had not slept soundly even once.
Quietly, she paid people for information, asking favors in hushed voices and slipping silver into willing hands.
Three days later, word finally returned.
The captured man was indeed Osvald Grandien—the second son of the Grandien family. The lone survivor who had escaped twenty years ago and hidden himself for two decades before finally being apprehended.
The mont Lady Lian heard the na, the teacup slipped from her fingers.
It shattered sharply upon the floor.
Osvald Grandien... She rembered that na.
Ayana had spoken of him before. He was the son of her elder brother’s household, a child who had protected her since youth. When the Grandien family fell, Ayana had been secretly sent away. Afterward, Lady Lian lost all knowledge of where the others had gone.
Even before her death, Ayana had murmured more than once:
"I wonder if any of them are still alive..."
Lady Lian crouched to gather the broken porcelain shards. One sharp edge sliced her fingertip, and beads of blood welled instantly to the surface.
Yet she seed unable to feel the pain. She only stared blankly at the blood staining her fingers.
Osvald was alive... But now he had been captured.
He was Ayana’s blood brother. Which ant... he might also be the only living blood relative Caelith had left in this world.
Lady Lian sat there in stunned silence for a long while.
Then she rose abruptly and headed for the door.
She needed to find Caelith.
Yet the mont she reached the threshold, her steps halted.
How could she say it?
How could she tell that girl that her only uncle was captured as a criminal by the man she loved?
He is imprisoned within the imperial prison, enduring torture, and no one knows how many days he has left to live.
How could such words ever leave her mouth?
Lady Lian stood frozen at the doorway for what felt like an eternity.
In the end, she turned back into the house. That night, she did not sleep at all.
At dawn the following morning, dark circles shadowed beneath her eyes as she made her way out once more.
***
At the Northern courtyard of the Firefly Lane, Caelith sat beneath the sunlight, embroidering quietly. The warm light bathed her figure in gold. Beside her, Yvaine humd cheerfully while hanging freshly washed garnts to dry, her mood bright beyond concealnt.
Then ca the sound of knocking at the gate.
Yvaine hurried over and pulled the door open.
"Lady Lian?"
The woman stood outside, pale-faced and red-eyed, every sign upon her weary features betraying a sleepless night.
Yvaine startled at her, confused. "Lady Lian... what happened to you?"
But she paid her no heed and walked straight into the courtyard.
Caelith looked up from her embroidery. The mont she saw Lady Lian’s expression, she froze.
"My lady?"
Lady Lian stopped before her and looked at her for a long mont before finally speaking, "Miss Caelith... there is sothing I must tell you."
At once, Caelith felt her heart sink.
Beside them, Yvaine spoke hesitantly, "Lady Lian, have you eaten? Should I bring you sothing first—"
"Yvaine," Caelith interrupted softly, "leave us for a mont."
Yvaine blinked in confusion, glancing uncertainly between the two won before finally nodding and retreating inside.
Silence settled over the courtyard.
Caelith rose slowly to her feet. "Lady Lian... please speak."
The woman drew in a deep breath, her face turning even paler. "That man who was captured..."
Caelith’s heartbeat faltered. "What man?"
"The one from the Grandien family." Lady Lian’s eyes fixed upon her. "His na is Osvald Grandien. He is the second son of the Grandien family."
The color drained from Caelith’s face.
Then Lady Lian continued quietly, "In truth... he is your relative."
The world seed to stop. Caelith’s body trembled, the air itself vanishing from her lungs.
Lady Lian, despite the suffocating tension, explained everything she knew about Caelith’s mother. Her true origins. The past her mother had hidden all these years.
At first, Caelith could not believe a single word. But then Lady Lian spoke of details only her mother could have known—certain habits, certain mories, even the story of the old wooden box.
And little by little, disbelief beca impossible.
"Before your mother died," Lady Lian whispered through trembling tears, "she often wondered whether your brother was still alive."
Caelith stood utterly speechless. Her mind had gone completely blank.
Florentine reached for her hand. "Dear child... that man may be the only blood relative you have left in this world."
Caelith looked at her slowly, still not sure how to feel about her words.
"That cannot be true." Her voice sounded dry and distant even to herself. "My mother never told ..."
"Of course she did not." Tears slipped down Lady Lian’s face. "She feared implicating you. Feared others discovering your identity. But in her heart... she never once stopped thinking of her brother."
Caelith shook her head, pulling her hand away.
"Lady Lian... how do you know that man is truly my uncle? What if he is not?"
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