“Recovering in a nearby room.” Astrid’s expression darkens. “We found her unconscious in a service corridor near the parliamentary chamber. She was attacked – fought three of them before they got her down. She’s been ... she blames herself.”
Of course she does. Ren would see it as a failure, even though she was ambushed by trained operatives specifically to keep her away from me.
“And the Cardinals?”
Mother continues to pat my shoulder. “Some survived. Cardinals Benedict, Maria, and Marcus made it out before the main explosion. A few others. Most didn’t.” She pauses. “They want to call an emergency Conclave vote as soon as they hear you’re awake to install a sovereign before anything else happens.”
I try to absorb all of this information, but my mind is scattered in so many directions. “Mother, how did you?—”
“Lord Lucien.” Mother’s voice carries a weight I don’t understand yet. “He knew where I was and shadow-walked us across the entire solar system. Somehow he knew you would need my healing magic.”
I stare at her. “I don’t understand…”
“Neither do we.” Astrid’s expression is grim. “But if he shadow-walked, it must have been important – that kind of magic isn’t meant for living beings, especially not across star systems. The strain nearly killed him. Your mother said he collapsed the moment they arrived, bleeding from his eyes and nose. No one’s seen him since – he disappeared before anyone could stop him.”
I take a moment to process this.
“He simply appeared and said you needed me. That you were dying and I was the only one who could heal you in time.” Mother adds.
“The Mercury token,” I say, remembering. “Did it – did anyone?—”
“Lady Tavia’s people received everything,” Astrid confirms. “Mercury’s communication network recorded the entire confrontation, up until the static interference.”
“Static interference?” I ask sharply.
“Yes.” Astrid nods solemnly. “They have Lady Isolde’s full confession. Her admission about the Architects, the attacks she orchestrated, her faction’s infiltration of every major institution. It’s all there, up until the moment we assume she interfered with the signal and it cuts to static, and she made her escape.”
Relief and shame war in my chest. They heard Isolde confess – but they didn’t hear what I became in those final moments, didn’t record me torturing her with my father’s magic while I enjoyed every second of it.
I’m saved by omission, protected by an assumed technical failure.
The thought makes me sick.
“Where is she now?” I ask. “Lady Isolde?”
“Gone without a trace.” Astrid’s voice hardens. “There’s a manhunt, but...” She shakes her head. “She could be anywhere.”
Mother’s hand tightens slightly on my shoulder. “Little moon,” she says gently. “How do you feel?”
The question is more than physical. I can hear it in her tone, see it in the way she’s watching me. She’s asking about more than my injuries.
“Confused,” I admit. “And angry.”
Her expression shifts – something vulnerable crossing her face before the healer’s mask returns.
“At me?” she asks quietly.
“Yes.” The word comes out sharper than I intend, all the hurt and confusion from the past months bleeding through. “Where were you? Ineededyou. I’ve been facing all of this alone, and you were –where? Where were you while I nearly died? Where were you when assassins attacked? Where were you when everyone found out who my father was and I had to stand in front of the entire system and pretend I wasn’t terrified?”
My voice breaks on the last word. Tears burn hot behind my eyes, months of suppressed emotion finally finding escape.
Mother’s composure cracks. I see tears gathering in her own eyes, her hand trembling slightly against my shoulder.
“You’re right. You deserve the truth. All of it.”
She sits on the edge of the bed, both hands now gripping mine. Astrid moves closer, settling on my other side.
“You know I was your father’s advisor,” Mother begins. “You know Daughters of the Moon were trusted counsellors, valued for our wisdom and foresight. But there’s more to the story. More than I’ve ever told you.”
