Caitlyn immediately returned to the House Kiramman estate after obtaining search and arrest warrants from the Piltover Wardens, which had previously been ignored.
However, the butler informed her that her mother had not yet returned from her evening obligations. But Caitlyn knew that was merely an excuse to avoid an uncomfortable confrontation.
Just like the revolutionary Hexgates, the communications industry pioneered in Zaun had spread throughout the bustling cities.
Naturally, Piltover also maintained an advanced communication network, extremely sophisticated, in fact, rivaling anything found in other major cities across Runeterra.
Piltover's communications infrastructure was jointly monopolized by the influential House Kiramman and House Medarda.
This arrangement existed because both houses held original investment shares in Zaun's communications technology. With access to Zaun's ongoing technical support and innovation, no other aristocratic house could effectively intervene, they could only observe in frustration.
Therefore, Caitlyn was absolutely certain that everything that had happened tonight had already been reported in detail to her mother by Sheriff Grayson, a trusted ally and longtime associate of their family.
She also suspected that her current whereabouts and activities were being discretely monitored. Her mother's refusal to meet with her was, in reality, a clear statement of disapproval.
Her gaze dimmed with disappointment, but she wasn't willing to abandon her cause. She couldn't bring herself to believe that her mother, who had always cherished and supported her, would truly avoid seeing her forever.
Holding the prepared documents against her chest like armor, she settled onto the velvet sofa in the parlor.
She didn't eat the prepared dinner or drink the offered refreshments, simply sat there in resolute silence.
She hadn't even changed out of her blue enforcer uniform.
Time ticked by slowly, and still there was no word of her mother's return.
Caitlyn sat as still as a statue.
The butler made several gentle attempts to persuade her to rest, bringing blankets and suggesting she retire to her childhood bedroom. But Caitlyn wouldn't listen to reason. Until she could speak with her mother face-to-face, she would not give up.
At last, at midnight, Cassandra returned to the estate.
She knew she had to teach her daughter a harsh lesson, to make her understand the world as it truly operated, so she wouldn't continue clinging to naive ideals and inadvertently exploiting the vulnerabilities of the Upper City without relent.
"You may all retire for the evening."
Her voice echoed from beyond the door, stern, cold, filled with the commanding presence of someone accustomed to wielding absolute power over others.
It was completely unlike her usual gentle, maternal tone when speaking to family.
Caitlyn tightened her grip on the documents in her arms.
Her mother, who had always prioritized family warmth, had never spoken with such coldness within their home before.
"Yes, Madam," the butler responded with a slight bow, then quietly departed with the other household staff.
The heavy door opened with a soft creak. Cassandra entered and sat across from Caitlyn in the opposing chair.
She didn't speak immediately. Instead, she began the ritualistic process of boiling water, apparently preparing tea, almost meditative movements.
"Mother, I ask for your signature and support!"
Caitlyn composed herself, bowed her head respectfully, and in a near-suppliant posture, pushed the carefully organized documents across the coffee table toward her mother.
Cassandra said nothing in response. She didn't even glance at the documents, nor did she look directly at her daughter.
It was a cold, wordless rejection.
The atmosphere in the parlor dropped to a freezing point.
Caitlyn clenched her jaw and stubbornly maintained her bowed position, unwilling to accept defeat or abandonment of her cause.
After a long silence, the water reached a rolling boil. Cassandra prepared a pot of the finest imported black tea. At last, she spoke, "Caitlyn, you're usually quite smart. Why insist on doing something so unnecessary and self-destructive?"
Deep down, she still loved her daughter.
Her expression softened slightly as she took the documents and poured a cup of tea for Caitlyn. Her tone returned to gentleness.
"This isn't unnecessary. Tens of thousands of innocent people have already died. We cannot allow these mistakes to continue. I have to fight for what's right."
Caitlyn spoke with emotion. After investing so much effort to reach her mother's heart, she seized this moment to instill her deeply held beliefs about justice.
"Tens of thousands of people, is that really such a significant number in the broader context of governance?"
Cassandra's tone suddenly turned ice-cold once again. She leaned back against the sofa's cushions, stretched her arms along its frame, and crossed her legs.
In an instant, her entire aura shifted, from an elegant, intellectual older woman to a powerful political ruler with absolute authority over life and death.
It was the first time Caitlyn had ever seen her mother like this. For a moment, she was stunned.
"But that's tens of thousands of human beings. Tens of thousands of people with families, dreams, hopes!"
Snapping out of her shock, she continued to plead.
She had mentally prepared herself for potential rejection, knowing there was a chance she'd leave empty-handed tonight. But still, she couldn't accept her mother being this cold.
"A necessary sacrifice for greater stability, nothing more."
"Noxus can easily lose over a hundred thousand lives in just a minor border skirmish. In large-scale military campaigns, the death toll regularly reaches into the millions."
"Human life? In this harsh world we inhabit, the cheapest and most abundant resource is human life!"
"You think we're cruel in our methods?"
"That naive perspective exists only because you were born in Piltover. Born a privileged Kiramman. Your home is secure enough, your family powerful enough to shield you."
"That's why you have the luxury of time, the abundance of resources, and the comfortable privilege to feel indignant about other people's suffering."
"But open your eyes and look at the broader world. Look at other regions and nations. Look at how ordinary people actually live, constantly on the edge of survival, ravaged daily by forces beyond their control."
"But here in Piltover, our citizens enjoy their lives with freedom and security. That peace comes from our tireless efforts and uncompromising hard labor."
"Can you name a single place more advanced and civilized than Piltover?"
Her barrage of words left Caitlyn dazed.
She knew intuitively that much of what her mother said was twisted, even wrong, but she couldn't think of how to refute it right away.
After a moment to collect her thoughts, she tried to appeal to the moral values her mother had always taught her during childhood, hoping to reclaim some of her affection.
"But you always taught me that to govern a city, we must uphold the rule of law. That only with law can we maintain vitality and public trust. But—"
"I wasn't wrong in those lessons," Cassandra interrupted. "And I didn't lie to you. But we absolutely do need the support of Piltover's citizens. They are our foundation and source of legitimacy."
Caitlyn, her anger finally boiling over, shot back, "That doesn't justify turning a blind eye to tens of thousands of deaths!"
Cassandra didn't respond immediately. She simply looked at Caitlyn with a complex expression. What kind of tone is that to use when addressing your mother?!
So much for winning her affection. Caitlyn bowed her head and pressed on, "You also taught me that justice and law must go hand in hand. That a law without justice is worthless, and justice without law is—"
"I never expected you to become an enforcer, or to let your misplaced sympathy run completely wild like this. You're directing your compassion toward the wrong targets."
"You're a Kiramman. You're from Piltover. Your sense of justice must begin with your identity and your position."
Visible frustration was written across Cassandra's face. She rubbed her temples wearily, clearly overwhelmed by a headache.
"But you didn't say any of that when you were raising me," Caitlyn murmured softly, blinking her eyes pitifully.
She quickly picked up on the softening in her mother's tone, there was still hope.
So she walked around behind her mother's chair and began gently massaging her tense shoulders, playing the part of the obedient, caring daughter to rekindle maternal affection.
"I just didn't want you to face the cruelty of reality too early in life," Cassandra murmured with sadness. "I wanted you to grow up in warmth and light, to enjoy the kind of life that represents humanity's highest aspirations."
"If I'd known things would turn out like this, I never would have trusted that nonsense from Cipher five years ago. I should have had you face reality much earlier, prepared you to take over the family's influence and assets."
"Not sneak off like some rebellious child, blow a hole in the ceiling, and then expect me to somehow patch up the sky for you!"
She released a deep, weary sigh. She understood her daughter's personality all too well, it reminded her painfully of her own idealistic youth.
And now, she finally understood how her own mother must have felt during those years.
What could be more maddening and heartbreaking than raising a daughter with principles?