That night.
Inside their bedroom.
Francesca sat at the edge of the bed, her long robe wrapped around her.
She smiled gently, watching Garius at the dresser, removing his coat and placing his sword carefully beside the wall.
"Dear?"
Garius glanced over his shoulder.
"Yes, Francesca?"
She tilted her head.
"Can I ask something?"
"Of course."
She hesitated for a moment.
Then spoke softly.
"Why did you send Javier alone…
toward the Dwarven Kingdom?"
Garius paused.
He turned slowly and walked toward the bed.
"Hmm? You wanted to know?"
Francesca nodded.
"Yes."
Garius sat beside her, his voice calm.
"Our youngest son is special."
Francesca listened quietly, her hands resting on her lap.
"He has power... more than you can imagine.
Even more than Marcellus and Cedric.
If he were serious, truly serious—"
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
"—He could crush everything in front of him."
Francesca looked down, silent.
"That's why.
I don't want him to stray."
