Grace is glory inchoate; glory is grace consummate.

Hena was giving Zane money.

The money her father stored for her.

Zane refused to believe that she was helping because she genuinely wanted to. Such beings were dead.

So before taking the money, he asked it directly.

"What do you want from me, Hena Myreth?"

At that, Draxus wanted to reply but this time, she will speak.

She pierced her gaze inside Zane’s eyes and in her stubborn voice, she uttered only one word.

"Glory."

Her voice landed with an echo in the empty room.

Jammy and Xavier remained silent as they left it to Zane.

Zane, however, didn’t know what to understand from that word.

Glory for what?

"Do you want the glory of helping those who never got help from anyone? Is that it? You want praise?"

She shook her head.

Her eyes darted on the rusty crib and the broken toys.

Her gaze lingered on them before she looked at Zane.

"I want the return of my glory."

"You had glory before?"

Hena let out a dry laugh.

"You seriously don’t know about me?" She asked.

"No. I don’t know. I never cared. But I think I should know about it now. I won’t take money from you until I know if I can give you what you want. It won’t be fair any other way."

Hena nodded slowly.

She looked around the room.

"I can tell him if you want, my lady." Draxus offered.

Hena shook her head.

"It should be me, Draxus. You have supported me enough."

Zane waited for the girl to speak.

"This was my room when I was a child." She said.

Zane and the others had already figured it out.

The crib, the toys, the Princess written on the door.

Everything screamed that the room belonged to a child and the child was Hena.

"My family..."

She jerked her head at Zane.

"We were the fourth Crown."

Zane’s breath stopped.

He suspected he heard it wrong but there were no extra sounds for him to hear wrong.

He heard what Hena said. Clearly.

By now he knew what Crown implied.

The people sitting at the top were the Crowns.

It won’t be wrong to say that they owned Dwarkam.

He gulped and looked at Xavier and Jammy.

Zane was surprised as they weren’t surprised.

"You knew this?" He asked.

They both nodded.

Zane laughed.

"So I was walking around with one of the people responsible for this state of the world all this time."

"Mind your tongue." Draxus threatened.

Zane felt nothing of that threat and focused on Hena.

"What became of you then?" He asked, his voice now rough.

Hena went to the corner of the room and sat down.

She blinked, placed her palm on her mouth, averted her eyes from Zane and the others.

She hid the fact that other than coldness, some more emotions could appear on her face.

But one clown couldn’t fake his smile to another clown.

Zane understood she was going through the weight of her memories and they were heavy enough to tear the eyes.

Draxus remained standing where he was.

Considering how much he worried for Hena, him not going to her felt out of character.

But no one questioned it and Zane walked towards her.

"No." Draxus said. "She doesn’t like someone bothering her in such times."

"I am not going to bother her."

Zane ignored Draxus’ words and went to the corner of the room.

But his face lacked his usual warmth.

He sat in front of Hena and she instantly stopped hiding her face.

She watched Zane with her same nonchalant gaze.

But Zane sighed.

She might have hidden her expressions of grief but she wasn’t able to hide the trail of tears.

Xavier and Jammy stayed with Draxus.

Draxus was ready to bring Zane back from her but Jammy placed his hand on his shoulders.

"Don’t worry," said the janitor. "He will calm her down. He is kind."

Draxus decided to believe it and from what he had seen in the Cathedral, Zane really appeared to be kind.

He would talk nicely to Hen—

"I don’t have infinite time. Tell me what you want and then cry."

Jammy removed his hand from Draxus’ shoulder.

Draxus glared at the janitor.

"You said he was kind."

"... Occasionally."

Draxus clenched his jaw and strided towards Zane.

But Hena raised her hand.

Draxus stopped.

She focused on Zane.

"We were the fourth Crown. The timeline isn’t important. My father was the Head and he used to handle the information and the Haloheart department of Dwarkam.

When I was little, he would tell me everything that happened to him the whole day. I still remember those days even when it happened when I was an infant.

But one day, he didn’t return home. And the next thing we knew, we were under the accusation of being a traitor. Stones and spit welcomed us that morning.

My mother went to meet the other Crowns to know what actually happened and they said my father proposed that the Haloheart wasn’t bestowed by the First Flame. They considered it blasphemy and he didn’t deserve to be a Crown. In fact, not believing in the First Flame while being a Crown was an insult worth dying for.

So all the other Crowns, in front of the Haloheart..."

Hena paused, controlling her breathing and with a shiver, she finished her next words.

"Hung my father to his death."

No one said anything.

Hena carried on.

"The Crowns asked the populace to throw stones at his corpse, spit on him, curse him, and they did. In his dying moments, my father heard my cries and the accusation of being a traitor."

Hena clenched her fists.

"They revoked our status as a Crown. We were Crowns for generations and in one night, we weren’t.

Seeing that there was no hope, my mother married the third Crown. She became the second wife of Crown Aurex, leaving me and her responsibilities towards me.

I was only five years old at that time and if not for Draxus and his family taking care of me, I would be dead. All our allies turned to enemies but only Draxus and his family remained."

Zane heard her and his thoughts were different than anyone could imagine.

"So you were a Crown. Even above Halocrats. That settles it then."

"What?" Draxus asked.

Zane stared into Hena’s eyes.

"Your sins simply caught up to you."