A week has passed.
Kalen played the role of the perfect son: he nodded, listened, and asked for advice.
Alesia played the role of a caring mother: she smiled, offered tea, and complained about her fatigue.
But it was as if snakes were crawling through the palace walls: the servants spoke more quietly, the mages avoided personal conversations, and the spies who had previously belonged to Velmut began to disappear one by one.
"Five are missing," said Tirk, sitting on the ceiling of Kallen's room. "The tracks are cut off. Clean. Blood magic. Just like hers."
Kalen nodded.
— She's started acting. Good. That means she's already nervous.
That same night, he received an invitation.
An invitation to dinner. Just the two of them.
"Son. I want to talk — just like a mother. No politics, no documents.
Today, in the Gardens of Moon Sand."
Alessia.
Kalen didn't refuse.
The Gardens of Moonlight Sand were a place of rare beauty. White flowers that grew only in moonlight shimmered in the wind. The air was warm, and everything seemed... perfect. Too perfect.
The table was located directly under a large tree with purple petals.
It's just a simple meal. Even Kallen's favorite fruits.
Alessia was sitting across from her. She was wearing a light-colored dress, her hair was pulled back, and her smile was motherly and gentle.
"I'm glad you came," she said, pouring the tea.
"I couldn't refuse. You're my mother," he said calmly.
She laughed.
"Don't be sarcastic. I really missed you. You've changed at the academy. You're stronger. You're tougher."
He gave a small shrug.
— It's easy to be tough at the academy. It's either you or they walk all over you.
"Exactly. And I was worried... that you might stop being my boy."
He looked her straight in the eye.
"Didn't you know that I've never been there?"
She froze. Just for a moment. But it was enough.
"Did you hear what Karol said?" she asked after a short pause.
"Every syllable of it," Kalen nodded. "And you know, he was right. About you."
Her brow lifted slightly.
"You're a very patient killer, Mother."
Silence. The petals fell on the table.
"Do you think I killed Velmut?" Her voice was as flat as ice water.
Kalen didn't answer immediately.
He picked up the cup. Sipped. Put it down.
"No. I think you're just getting started."
She bowed her head, and for the first time that evening, her gaze was no longer maternal.
He became... political.
"Do you think you can outsmart me?"
"No," said Kalen. "I know I've already lost."
He stood up.
"And you know what's interesting? I won't hurt you right now. No. I'll watch you lose your influence. Day by day. As your people disappear. As you smile while everything inside burns."
"And for what?" — What is it? " she whispered. "For my father's sake?"
"For the sake of the truth," he replied. "For the sake of power. For the sake of making sure you never control me again."
He turned and walked away.
But halfway through, Alessia said:
"I loved him, Kalen. Even if you don't believe me. Even if I've done a lot. But I really did love him."
He stopped.
"Then why did he die with a sword in his chest, and why are you still sitting in his chair?"
There was no response.
Later that night, in the room of shadows.
"She... shuddered," Beste whispered. "I can feel it. But... she won't back down."
Tirk crawled closer, getting down on the floor.
"One of her people tried to enter the portal area."
"Caught?"
— Of course. He's in a cage right now. Should I bring him in?
Kalen nodded.
— Yes. I'm asking questions today.
He looked in the mirror.
"Now let her decide whether she's a mother or an enemy."