The silence in the room was heavy as the glow of the disconnected holo-comm faded from Viora’s wrist.

Andrea’s smile widened, sharp and knowing. Her silver hair caught the dim light, and she looked thoroughly entertained by the sudden tension. "A male, Viora?" she purred, her voice dripping with the thrill of a secret. "I always thought you were the disciplined one. I never imagined the stoic Princess Viora would keep a male lover or is he a pet? Either way, he’s fascinating."

"Whatever you think you saw, you’re wrong," Viora said coldly.

Andrea smirked. "Oh, on the contrary, I don’t think I’m wrong about this. Why else would a woman of your standing be hiding in a darkened room, speaking to the rarest commodity in the galaxy with that particular look in her eyes? In this world, a man is useless, except for being a very private indulgence. I know what I saw, cousin."

Viora didn’t flinch, but the temperature in the chamber plummeted. Frost crept along the edges of her obsidian desk, a silent response to her rising, cold fury.

"You are overstepping," Viora said, her voice devoid of emotion. She lowered her wrist, locking her ice-blue eyes onto her cousin with the predatory focus she used to assess a Vorthak swarm. "What I do is none of your concern."

Andrea was surprised. She had never seen Viora this angry. She figured Viora’s pride was simply bruised; the two of them were fiercely competitive, and being snuck up on felt like a loss Viora couldn’t stomach.

But Andrea was wrong. Viora wasn’t driven by pride, but by a raw, protective instinct. Zaeryn, the brother she was desperate to shield, was on that screen. Andrea’s playfulness wasn’t just annoying; it was a direct threat to the most dangerous secret their family held.

"Oh, please." Andrea pushed off the doorframe, taking a slow step into the room. She was vibrating with amusement, ignoring the chilling air. "Don’t insult my intelligence. I saw his face. And I saw you panic." She let out a soft laugh. "Don’t worry, I won’t tell. It’s no big deal as long as you keep him out of the palace. You aren’t the only one with a ’distraction’ tucked away. Even the High Queens and Matriarchs have kept pets throughout history. There’s no shame in it. In fact, you might be more fun than I imagined."

"Stop it. You’re mistaken." Viora’s jaw tightened. She knew Andrea well. Her cousin thrived on gossip and drama, treating the complex political web of the Lumina family like a personal playground.

If Andrea opened her mouth, even a casual mention of Viora talking to a male would invite the kind of curiosity that inevitably led to disaster.

The risk was physical, too. Despite his dark hair, Zaeryn’s facial structure was unmistakably Lumina, a ghost of their bloodline that any observant courtier might recognize. It wouldn’t take much for an ambitious rival to start wondering about the connection and demand a Vitae-lineage test.

In a world where high-ranking males were either registered or nonexistent, an unmapped Lumina lookalike was a death sentence waiting to happen.

On top of that, she had been incredibly careless. If Athea found out she was calling Zaeryn from within the palace, her mother would have the perfect excuse to act. Athea already viewed their connection as a liability; a security breach of this magnitude would give her all the leverage she needed to cut Zaeryn off from Viora entirely, or worse, move him to a more "secure", and isolated, location.

In a blur of motion, Viora closed the distance. She didn’t draw a weapon; her presence alone was a suffocating weight of Vitae. The smirk on Andrea’s face faltered as a biting chill wrapped around her throat.

"This is not a game," Viora whispered, her tone carrying the finality of a death sentence. "If you breathe a word of what you saw, to Erythea, to Aphrodite, to anyone, you aren’t just ruining a secret. You are declaring war on me."

Andrea swallowed hard, the reality of standing against a vanguard Warlady finally piercing her smug exterior. Her breath plumed in small white clouds. "Viora, you’re overreacting," Andrea said, finally dropping the act. She was serious now. "I understand you want this kept quiet. It won’t get out." Her mischievousness returned, though tempered. "But you have to admit, it’s highly irregular."

"Irregularities keep this Queendom alive," Viora replied flatly. "You love secrets? Here is one for your grave: that comm feed never happened. You walked in, we discussed nothing, and you left. Do we have an understanding?"

Andrea held her stare, weighing the gossip against Viora’s retribution. Slowly, she masked her retreat with a final, graceful smirk. "Crystal clear, little cousin. Your secret is safe. For now."

Andrea slipped out, the doors hissing shut behind her.

Alone in the freezing room, Viora let out a long, ragged exhale. The secret was safe for tonight, but Andrea was a crack that would eventually split.

Meanwhile, a few minutes earlier.

Immediately after Viora disconnected the holo-call Zaeryn stared at the empty space above his wrist where Viora’s face had been just seconds ago. The image of that silver-haired woman, looming in the background, was burned into his mind.

"Shit," he muttered, closing the comm-link.

Viora had looked genuinely rattled before the feed cut. If a Warlady like her was worried about being seen talking to him, the situation was officially messy. He didn’t know who the other woman was, but the way she’d smiled suggested she wasn’t there to hand out cookies.

Zaeryn pushed himself up, his mind still replaying the sharp, silver-haired intruder who had just crashed his call with Viora. Staring at the empty air above his wrist wouldn’t fix the leak; he needed to move.

He had to find Ysmeine so she could coordinate with Athea and determine if their secret was still a secret or if the palace was already beginning to stir.

He found them outside. Ysmeine was dressed in an adaptive-fabric gown, moving between a few plants with a chrome watering can. Kayla was perched on the synth-steel railing, her back to the drop, watching her sister.

As Zaeryn approached, Kayla’s eyes snapped to him. She didn’t move, but the atmosphere cooled by a few degrees just from her gaze.

"Ysmeine, we have a problem," Zaeryn announced, his voice tight with anxiety as he stepped into the room.

Kayla didn’t even bother looking up from her screen. "Of course we do. You exist," she muttered, her voice dripping with its usual disdain.

Zaeryn ignored her, focusing entirely on Ysmeine. "I was on a holo-call with Viora," he explained hastily. "Someone walked into her room right before she cut the feed. They definitely saw my face on the projection."

Ysmeine set the can down, her expression remaining perfectly serene. She walked over to him, placing a calming hand on his arm. "Zaeryn, darling, take a breath. It’s really nothing to worry about," she reassured him smoothly. "Even if someone saw Viora speaking to a young man through a holo-comm, they wouldn’t magically jump to the conclusion out of nowhere that you are Princess Athea’s hidden son. To anyone else, you’re just a face on a screen."

Kayla chimed in, her icy green eyes finally flicking up to meet his. "To them, you’re just some random, insignificant male. Or perhaps they just assume Viora has incredibly poor taste in conversation partners. No one is going to look at someone like you and cry ’royal bloodline’."

"I wasn’t asking for your opinion, Kayla," Zaeryn snapped back, his jaw tightening as the familiar irritation flared in his chest. He hated how she never missed an opportunity to throw an insult his way.

Ysmeine let out a soft, internal sigh as she watched the two of them instantly lock horns. She observed the fiery glare Zaeryn shot at her sister, and the mask of pure, cold contempt Kayla wore so flawlessly. As much as their constant bickering frustrated her, Ysmeine also found it deeply ironic.

She knew exactly why Zaeryn disliked Kayla so intensely; to him, she was nothing but a cruel antagonist who had spent his entire life pointing out his flaws and treating him like garbage. But Ysmeine knew the truth beneath Kayla’s icy exterior.

She knew that her sister had abandoned her highly-coveted post on the dangerous frontlines the very second she heard Zaeryn was in the Council’s custody. She knew that Kayla secretly kept a very close eye on his schedule, masking her fierce, protective instincts behind a fortress of feigned indifference and harsh words.

Deep down, Ysmeine firmly believed that despite the hostility she projected, Kayla still felt a certain type of loyalty towards him. It amused Ysmeine in a quiet, exasperating way, they were both so stubbornly prideful, completely blind to the fact that their dynamic was built on a foundation of misdirected care.

"Enough, both of you," Ysmeine said gently but firmly, stepping between their glares. She cupped Zaeryn’s cheek, bringing his attention back to her. "Trust me, Zae. Viora is a seasoned Warlady. She knows exactly how to handle an interruption and protect her secrets. Don’t let your paranoia ruin your day."