Nadia was panicking.
She truly, genuinely could not think of anything to say.
Her thoughts were completely scattered, all over the place, racing in a hundred different directions at once.
If it had been about anything else—any other topic, any other question—she would have been able to answer imdiately, confidently, with perfect precision.
But when it ca to her daughter?
She herself didn’t know the answers.
If she did, she would have brought Astrid back long ago. They would be in a happy, healthy relationship right now, mother and daughter united.
But they weren’t.
They were distant. Apart. Broken.
And she had no idea how to fix it.
Because of that realization, all the thoughts and carefully prepared responses that she’d spent years developing completely scrambled in her mind, becoming an incoherent ss.
Her subordinates behind her were visibly scared, seeing their normally unshakeable leader falter like this for the first ti.
On the other side, the demi-human conservatives were all smiling, thinking they’d finally won, that they’d trapped her in an impossible position.
Nadia herself thought everything was lost.
She was completely at a loss for how to answer this question.
Years and years of effort, all about to be ruined by this single mont.
She couldn’t help but feel overwhelming despair wash over her—the sa crushing sense of hopelessness she’d once felt when she’d fought the Eternal Queen and realized just how impossibly powerful that being was.
Almost as if everything was going to fall apart, no matter what she did.
But just as she was spiraling into that dark place—
Suddenly, out of nowhere, she felt a warm sensation on her thigh.
The mont it touched her, it gave her a sense of comfort and safety that cut through all the panic like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
Slowly, she looked down.
Mika’s hand was resting gently on her thigh, stroking it softly—up and down, up and down, in a soothing rhythm.
That simple action alone was more than enough to begin restoring all the warmth and confidence she’d just lost.
When she looked up at him with nervous, desperate eyes, she saw him looking back at her with loving confidence.
"It’s alright, Nadia." He said gently, voice low enough that only she could hear. "You’ve got this. Take a deep breath in...and out. In...and out."
Nadia obeyed without thinking. She breathed in, held it, then let it out. Once. Twice. Three tis.
The storm in her mind began to settle, while Mika kept stroking her thigh, steady and patient.
Once she was calr, she looked at him with lingering nervousness.
"Mika...I don’t know if I can answer this question. I’m not prepared. I—"
Before she could finish, he gave her a small, reassuring smile.
"It’s alright, Nadia. I’ve got you."
He squeezed her thigh gently.
"I know how you struggle with questions like this. There’s no need to explain yourself to ."
He chuckled softly.
"Everyone has their own weaknesses." He continued, his tone matter-of-fact but kind. "And they’ve found yours—your daughter."
"They’ve pinpointed it perfectly and exploited it. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just smart strategy on their part."
"After all, at the end of the day, no matter how powerful you are, you’re still human. And humans all have their own weaknesses and struggles."
"That’s completely normal. Don’t feel bad about it."
Hearing this, Nadia—who had felt like her entire body was on fire just monts ago—suddenly felt the most relaxing sensation move through her.
It was almost as if a cool spring breeze had washed over her, carrying away all the heat and panic and crushing weight of expectation.
Just a few words from Mika, and she felt completely normal again.
After all, who else in the world would dare to say or even think of Nadia as a normal human being?
Everywhere she went, people thought of her as a goddess, an angel, a Valkyrie sent from the heavens.
No one ever saw the human side of her. Most people couldn’t even conceive that it existed, blinded as they were by the imnse power she wielded.
Everyone except Mika.
He could always see through to her struggles, her worries, what she was truly going through beneath the surface.
And just like always, he was able to calm her down with nothing more than his presence and his words.
She looked at him with profound gratitude and overwhelming love in her eyes.
Right now, she wanted nothing more than to tear up and pull him into a desperate embrace.
But she knew she couldn’t do that—not here, not now, not with everyone watching.
She needed to focus on the question at hand.
But at the sa ti, she still didn’t know how to answer it.
But before she could apologize or say anything, though, Mika gently squeezed her thigh again.
"It’s all right, Nadia." He said, giving her a knowing smirk. "There’s no need for you to answer this question."
He leaned back slightly, completely relaxed.
"After all, these monts are exactly why you brought by your side, aren’t they?"
"And after eating all this food and completely destroying that buffet over there, I think I should return the favor and help you out a little bit."
His smile widened.
"So, let carry this burden with you."
Once again, Nadia felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she had to hold herself back from crying.
What Mika had just said—that he would hold her burden was sothing no one else would ever dare to do.
The burden she carried was the peace and prosperity of billions upon billions of lives across two entire worlds.
And yet Mika was casually telling her that he was willing to share it.
Her heart was filled with such overwhelming love that her entire body was trembling slightly, her emotions threatening to burst out with enough force to collapse this entire building and probably several others in the surrounding area..
Her son.
Her pride.
Her heart.
She opened her mouth to speak—
"Lady Nadia."
The lizard delegate’s voice cut through the mont like a blade.
"Do you have an answer? We haven’t got all day. I’d prefer not to wait too long."
Nadia’s expression snapped back into its usual mask. But before she could respond, Mika moved.
He didn’t stand. Didn’t gesture. Didn’t raise his voice. He simply turned his head and looked at the delegate.
Just looked.
And the mont he did—the lizard man’s words died in his throat.
He didn’t know why.
The boy was young, unremarkable, shouldn’t have been anything to fear. He had stared down Battle Angels, faced hostile delegations, survived political purges that had killed lesser n.
But sothing in those dark eyes—sothing cold and ancient and utterly patient made his scales prickle.
He told himself it was nothing. A trick of the light. His own exhaustion playing tricks on him.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that sothing dangerous was watching him.
Mika let the silence stretch for one heartbeat. Two. Three.
Then he sighed.
"I would like to inform everyone here that right now Nadia’s got a bit of an itch in her throat from speaking so long."
He said, voice relaxed and conversational.
"She just needs a mont to rest. Until then, she’s asked to handle this question for her."
The entire hall gasped.
Heads turned. Officials exchanged stunned glances. No one had expected this—not even Nadia’s own subordinates, who looked at her in disbelief, waiting for her to deny it.
But Nadia said nothing.
She simply sat there, calm and composed, quietly giving Mika the reins to sothing so pivotal.
They couldn’t believe what they were seeing.
The lizard delegate recovered quickly. His eyes narrowed, scanning the boy with new suspicion.
"And who are you?" His voice was sharp, dismissive. "Who gave you the authority to speak for Lady Nadia? To address soone like on a stage like this?"
Mika shrugged. "Irrelevant."
The delegate’s jaw tightened. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard ." Mika’s tone was easy, almost lazy. "Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is what I’m about to say."
The lizard-man bristled with anger at the dismissal, but before he could retort, Mika shifted position.
He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the desk and his chin on his hand, a casual smile playing across his face.
Then, completely ignoring the man’s indignation, he continued.
"I will have to say..." Mika began cheerfully. "...that what you said just now is completely true about Nadia’s daughter."
Everyone froze.
"She really is totally opposed to demi-humans." Mika went on, as if discussing the weather. "After all, she is the leader of one of the biggest anti-demi-human organizations in existence."
"And I can say, as a matter of fact, that there isn’t a single lie in what you claid. She absolutely does hate demi-humans from the bottom of her heart."
He chuckled lightly.
"In fact, I can even tell you that she’s probably fuming right now at the thought of this eting happening at all. She’s most likely supporting your side in this debate, hoping you shut down this entire coalition."
Absolute shock rippled through the hall.
People gasped and stared at Mika like he’d lost his mind.
He was supposed to be speaking on Nadia’s behalf, defending her position—but instead, he was doing the exact opposite!
He was agreeing with the opposition!
It made no sense at all.
Nadia’s subordinates looked at each other in confusion, then turned to stare at their leader as if she’d made a terrible mistake.
But Nadia herself showed no surprise whatsoever.
She simply sat calmly, watching Mika with complete faith, letting him speak without interference.
The lizard-man looked equally surprised at first—but then a slow, triumphant smile spread across his face.
He’d been given an idiot to argue with.
This was going to be so much easier than he’d thought.
But just as he was beginning to feel confident—
Mika suddenly changed topics.
He leaned forward slightly, his smile taking on a different quality.
"Well, speaking of daughters..." He said casually. "...don’t you also have a daughter, Mr. Ragor?"
The previously confident Ragor was completely thrown off pace by this unexpected question.
His eyes narrowed with imdiate suspicion and protective instinct.
"Why exactly are you bringing up my daughter right now?!" He demanded, his voice sharp. "What right do you have to ntion her?!"
His paternal instincts were clearly taking over, overriding his political composure.
But Mika didn’t seem to care at all.
Instead, he casually took a bite of pasta, chewed thoughtfully, and then answered in the most relaxed tone imaginable.
"Well, you got a chance to speak freely about Nadia’s daughter, didn’t you? So it’s only fair that I can ask questions about your daughter as well."
He tilted his head with mock curiosity.
"Unless you’re ashad of her or sothing?"
Ragor imdiately bristled, his scales shifting color slightly with agitation.
"Ashad?!" He scoffed loudly. "There’s no way I would ever be ashad of my daughter!"
His expression shifted to one of unmistakable pride, a smug smile spreading across his reptilian features.
"After all, my daughter is truly the most talented of her generation."
He declared, his voice filled with genuine paternal admiration.
"Not only is she at the top of her class, building a brilliant career toward becoming an official just like her father, but she’s also incredibly beautiful, well-spoken, and beloved among her peers!"
His eyes practically glowed with affection.
"She is truly a shining star! A credit to our family in every way!"
Mika nodded, smiling as if in agreent.
"You must really love your daughter, speaking of her like that."
"Of course." Ragor said, voice filled with warmth. "She is my daughter, after all. It is only natural."
He seed to be enjoying this opportunity to boast about his child, his earlier hostility montarily forgotten.
But just as he was basking in this chance to show off—
Mika’s smile widened in a slightly sinister way.
"You say that you’re proud of your daughter." He said slowly, his tone shifting subtly. "But are you truly proud of everything she does?"
"...Even the things she does in secret, without anyone else knowing?"
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