"Some men love quietly. And when they break, they make no sound. But their silence is the reason someone else still stands."
---
(Arago – Duke Aslac's Quarters, Before Dawn)
The candle burned low, flickering like breath in a dying throat.
Duke Aslac Montagne sat still, the letter from Ceasare unopened beside him. His gaze rested on the iron ring in his palm—simple, dark, worn smooth by years of memory.
Mercedes' ring.
Worn, heavy, still warm from memory.
She had given it to him not as a promise…
…but as a warning.
As a parting.
He still remembered the cold that never left after that day.
And the weight of choices that had nothing to do with what he wanted.
---
(Flashback – After the Prince's Death)
The funeral flames still lingered in the air.
And Mercedes—silent, hollow-eyed—stood at the gates of the chapel, dressed in the last warmth of her royal grief.
She didn't speak much anymore.
But she pressed the ring into Aslac's hand before the Church took her.
And said:
"Don't let them burn her, too."
The words clung tighter than ash.
She didn't need to say who.
---
The next week, Conrad gave his decree:
"You'll marry Herleva. Mercedes is no longer a suitable match. And the girl needs a place to be raised—not a scandal."
Herleva—Conrad's cousin, from a noble house far from the court—was kind and obedient, but never the one Aslac loved.
He obeyed, not for Conrad.
But for Alberta.
For Cornelius.
For the children caught between crowns and cages.
---
(Flashback – Ceasare and the Unspoken Trust)
It was late. The estate quiet.
Aslac stood before the young man who bore his name—Ceasare, grown but still restless, noble-blooded yet reckless.
"You'll accompany them," Aslac said.
"And you'll watch Alberta."
Ceasare straightened, surprised.
"Why me?"
Aslac studied him a moment—wondering, not for the first time, if he was sending Alberta into the jaws of another fire.
But he had no better choice.
Then said, low and tired:
"Because I can't protect her myself. And you've always wanted to prove you're more than shadows."
Ceasare looked away, jaw clenched.
"She doesn't need me."
"No," Aslac replied.
"But that's exactly why she might trust you."
He placed a hand on Ceasare's shoulder.
Firm. Quiet. Almost fatherly.
"Do not let her fall into the same silence that took her mother."
And Ceasare, though he said nothing, bowed his head.
For the first time, he understood.
---
(Flashback – Cornelius, Age Seven)
The hall was quiet, save for rain tapping the old windowpanes.
Little Cornelius had crept from his bed, small feet bare against the cold stone.
"Uncle," he whispered, tugging at Aslac's sleeve.
"Is Mama coming back?"
Aslac knelt beside him.
Wrapped the boy in his thick cloak.
Held him close.
She's still with us," he said softly.
"In the way the candles never go out. Even in storms."
Cornelius blinked.
"Then why doesn't anyone talk about her anymore?"
Aslac's heart cracked a little.
But he smiled, tired but gentle.
"Because when something is too precious… people think silence will protect it."
Cornelius leaned against him, small hands clinging to the fur lining of his cloak.
Years later, he'd wear steel across his chest.
But that night, he wore warmth.
"If I'm quiet… will she hear me?"
Aslac stroked his hair.
"She already does."
That night, he sat by the boy's bed until he slept.
And wept in silence.
Because he couldn't promise her return.
Only that he'd keep the children breathing long enough to find their own way through the ruin.
---
(Return to Present – Arago)
Now grown, Cornelius stood tall. Steady.
But he still wore armor like a boy wears grief.
And Alberta… she never walked. She blazed.
Alberta burned bright, just like her mother.
"Don't let them burn her, too."
Mercedes' words echoed again.
---
Aslac closed his fingers around the ring.
He hadn't been able to stop the Church.
He hadn't been able to save the boy they all loved.
But now—
now he would not fail again.
He whispered into the dimness:
"Hold on, my flame.
I am still here.
I am still watching.
And I am coming."