They met as expected, yet joy didn’t bloom; a thin smile brushed their faces, two hawks nodding over a quiet ridge, silence settling like still water.

“Your Highness, are you set on regicide? Or… on locking your foolish brother away for life?” Medith kicked off her boots, went barefoot onto the bed like pale shells on linen, and sat beside her.

Talant’s gaze tangled like ivy around a stone. “If I can, I still want to give him a clean end. But I can’t move an inch. Venus and my mother the Queen are still in his grip. That demon is no longer the brother I knew. I don’t think I’d feel guilty killing him.”

“Is that truly what you think?” Medith’s voice steadied like a drawn bow. From the flicker in her golden eyes, she felt it—Talant couldn’t sever blood from bone. She was too much like Medith; one look pulled up the heat-hazed days of her reckless youth.

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know why he’s doing this. Why can’t our family sit down and talk calmly? Even if we disagree, even if he craves power, but…” Talant’s tears had long dried; only confusion and hesitation drifted like mist after rain.

Thump—the bed hummed as Medith flopped back. She stared up at the chandelier, a frozen cascade of crystal, memory deep as a well. “Maybe… he’s moved past being human, crowned himself a god. Different will, different height, different sight.

Then there’s nothing to discuss. After all, how does a man speak to ants?”

“They aren’t ants. Elyu is my brother. Ostos is my father—his father, his brother!” Talant’s voice flared like sparks, then steadied. “What kind of devil—”

“To Paris, all things are ants,” Medith said, calm as winter water. “His will has climbed to godhood. Not understanding is normal. I’m a demon too, so I can feel how terrible that peak is.

I once lost myself, became a cold machine for killing. If Xier hadn’t lit my path like a lantern in fog, I might have walked that road.”

“General, have you met the Blood Pact nobles?” Talant asked suddenly.

Medith gave a weary, crooked smile. “Couldn’t hide it from you, could I? The Blood Pact clan will slip somewhere in court or city; someone must cover them.

If that cover is you and Haidra, it’s best. You even have a reason that forces you to fight.

As you said, we met. I grasped how dire the tide is. I felt your resolve and your no-return courage. And I can’t agree with what Paris has done.”

“Then…” Hope rose in Talant’s eyes; her pillow slid like a cloud breaking.

Medith’s face set like cooling clay; her gaze went cold. Talant’s heart stumbled. She knew.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” Medith had nothing else to offer. Talant’s tears surged, guilt and helpless rage and hollow loss knotting like threads; her red lips trembled like winter petals.

Medith sighed, the sound like wind over a burdened cart. Shoulders how heavy, deeds how careful—no more the rash girl struck down by the Queen’s staff. Now she carried more than even the Queen.

“It’s fine. I… I knew. Don’t worry, this won’t break our friendship. Any time, you’re welcome to join our line.” Talant was steel wrapped in silk; she reset like a blade in its scabbard and held out her right hand.

Medith smiled and nodded, and clasped Talant’s right hand, two rivers crossing under a pale moon.