Marina was scanning the final lines of Shirei's letter, rereading every word down to the last stroke of ink. At last, she lifted her gaze, letting the words settle in her mind.
Light filtered into the carriage through the tall windows, reflecting on the fine fabrics that covered the seats. The cushions were of soft blue velvet, adorned with delicate silver embroidery. The walls, paneled with carved wood, bore images of Lupi of every kind—an unmistakable mark of the house. Above her head, polished brass supports held a lamp with fragile crystals, ready to glow as the sun went down. The interior of the carriage swayed rhythmically with every jolt of the road, producing a gentle clinking sound.
The daughter of Ien leaned back against the seat, setting the letter on her lap, and turned her gaze out the window. Out there, the landscape flowed like a dream: stretches of meadows alternated with wild fields dotted by plants stained with the purity of snow. In the distance, white hills stretched like motionless waves, and the clear sky lent the scenery a serene, unchanging air. From time to time, solitary trees appeared, with gnarled and mighty branches standing stark against the horizon. The slow movement of the clouds gave her the feeling of a world that, one way or another, always kept moving forward.
The carriage passed through the estate's main gate, and Marina heard the familiar creak of the ancient iron hinges as it entered the main avenue. On either side of the path, centuries-old trees stood like sentinels, framing the road to the villa, which could be glimpsed just ahead, as imposing and silent as ever.
As she continued onward, her thoughts inevitably returned to the moment she had received the message from the Lyceum. As soon as the instructions had arrived, she had been forced to suddenly leave her home in the Otherworld to venture into the Mortal World, as requested, and an escort had brought her all the way to Lombardy. From there, however, she had been taken back through a portal, which—paradoxically—had brought her once more to the very edge of the Otherworld.
A faint furrow of perplexity creased her brow as she reflected on the strangeness of that choice.
Why this whole long journey? They could have simply escorted me through the Otherworld.
She wondered whether the answer lay in those infamous wild lands—a territory said, according to rumors, to be as vast as it was fearsome.
No Blendbreed from the park, except for the Equinox Flowers, is authorized to go there.
The coachman's stern voice echoed in the Blendbreed's ears as the carriage came to a stop and the door opened with a slight creak. Two guards approached with purposeful steps to help her down; snow was falling with a calm silence, covering their cloaks with a faint white veil.
The vehicle moved away down the path, leaving Marina alone to admire the villa towering above her. The estate was majestic and silent, with pearl-gray walls interrupted by white trim, blending harmoniously with the snowy landscape. Snow fell gently, settling everywhere in a soft blanket, yet despite it all, the air remained mild—as if that magical land were immune to the true cold.
The guard who was to escort the girl to the entrance observed the building with a composed air. He analyzed it with a fleeting glance.
He was a young graduate from the Daffodils Academy, the silver hawk pin on his chest marking the regiment he had served with during his time as a recruit. Like most Blendbreeds who had graduated in recent years and belonged to the Silver Hawks, he had signed a contract as a private guard for House Lupi. His gaze remained sharp but respectful, his posture proud, the bearing of someone who—despite his youth—had already gathered experience under the academy's strict discipline.
The blonde allowed herself to be escorted through the main hallway to the closed doors. There was no need to be told who awaited her beyond them—only one person could have summoned her.
I accepted because there's a chance to get information about Shirei. I hope I didn't make a mistake…
She smiled at her escort and said, "I can go on alone, thank you. You'd best return to your post."
The guard gave a courteous bow and, after staring at her for a few seconds, turned and left without a word.
The daughter of Ien placed her fingers on the cold metal doors and pushed them open.
Here we go… she thought as the entrance parted to let in the bright rays of sunlight.
She crossed the threshold, letting herself be embraced by the warm, enveloping light that poured through the vast stained glass window ahead. The room, luxurious and immaculate, was decorated with meticulous care. On the walls hung paintings depicting battle scenes from her family's history—images the Blendbreed now knew by heart. And yet, in such a familiar space, Marina felt like a stranger.
A woman with black hair and wine-colored eyes was waiting a few steps away, holding a chalice in her hands while beside her rested a small newborn in a cradle of transparent glass.
"Good morning, Aquamarina. I trust your journey was smooth," said the young lady as soon as she saw her.
One didn't need to be an expert to catch the slight acidic note she had chosen to lace into the sound of her name.
The Blendbreed took a deep breath, locking her emotions into a corner of her mind and pretending they weren't there.
She straightened her posture and stepped into the magnificent heart of the room, trying not to let memories of her painful childhood rise to the surface.
"Mother…"
The girl gave a respectful bow and stood still, waiting for the woman to grant her permission to sit. In an instant, she was back to being just over ten years old.
"I see that, despite where you reside, you've managed to retain at least a hint of the proper manners you were once taught."
Those words were followed by a wave of her free hand, gesturing toward the armchair.
She followed the not-so-gentle invitation while replying to her mother's words in her head.
Not from you—you never taught me anything.
She was tempted to let herself fall into the chair, but chose instead to uphold the false game her stepmother was playing in an attempt to provoke a reaction.
"Your clothes, however, could be replaced with something more… refined."
She ignored the comment—she had expected it. She was no longer a child and knew well how the woman tried to rouse her anger. She had done so in the past to push her father to send her away from the estate, and despite the years gone by, she still repeated the same tactics.
She sighed calmly and chose to get to the point. "Mother, why have I been called here?"
"Why, you ask?" came the reply, with an irksome smile. "I'd say it's rather obvious."
The woman sat gracefully on the other side of the table. "You've made serious mistakes that could damage our family's reputation."
My family, she corrected in her mind.
"I thought it best to summon you here to correct them before they escalated into something dangerous."
Marina forced an impassive expression, though inside she was hurt by the obvious surveillance she had been subjected to. She wasn't surprised that the family had spied on her; after all, she knew that every heir of the Lupi was kept under close watch.
But who could be the informant in this case? Another child of Ien?
She wondered if someone among them was willing to betray her so openly—and who, among the many, might be involved. She immediately ruled out Lorenzo and Michela; she knew their hearts and was sure they would never shadow or betray her for some petty power play.
Okay… Lorenzo's definitely followed me a few times, but not for that reason.
She scoffed softly when the woman shifted her gaze to the cradle, then asked, "Is my father aware of this meeting between us?"
"Your father has no time to waste on such nonsense."
Marina rolled her eyes and smiled with irritation, confirming her suspicion. So the answer is no.
"I'd prefer to speak when we are all present, dear mother."
She made to rise, but the guards—who had remained in the corners of the room since her arrival—immediately moved to block her path.
The woman shook her head. "We'll discuss it now."
The daughter of Ien resigned herself and returned to her seat. There was no use trying to escape her; the only option left was to endure the conversation and hope it wouldn't last long.
"Fine. What is it we need to talk about?"
"You maintain too close a connection with Cragar's children—especially the boy. This is unacceptable. You cannot continue spending time with him."
The Blendbreed froze. She had expected that, sooner or later, her family would intervene and strip away the freedom she had gained at Lilies Park. She had started to push boundaries when she became friends with Dahlia, but she believed that Aena would resolve everything—after all, it had been Aena who had given her that mission in the first place.
She hadn't expected any specific mention of the Blendbreed with violet eyes, and that only deepened her concerns. In the past, Cragar'sson had been one of the academy's soldiers, but also someone connected to Rakion.
My intent was to use this meeting to find out whether the Lupi possess more information about Shirei. I thought I'd have to circle around the topic without addressing it directly, but I didn't expect us to get to it this quickly.
Her suspicions were, in any case, correct. Her stepmother—who knew little to nothing about the family's heritage—had made her travel all this way just to talk about Cragar's children.
If the Lupi didn't raise any concerns about my bond with Dahlia until now.. There can only be one reason, she concluded. They must know something about him.
"Shirei…" she whispered.
The woman nodded with disapproval. "I don't care about the name. You must keep your distance from him."
She wanted to retort, but her attention was drawn by the sound of doors opening. A woman entered the room, followed by three immaculate white wolves who walked beside her with the grace of creatures born to inspire fear. Their eyes were fixed squarely on Marina's stepmother, in a silent confrontation that seemed to freeze the air in the room.
"Aunt…?!" she exclaimed, surprised and relieved by the arrival.
Alba Lupi, her aunt, was the living image of the family's lineage. She was in her forties and approaching fifty, yet in her crystal-blue eyes burned an untamed brilliance—the same Marina knew so well in her father. Since the last time she had seen her, the woman's hair had turned entirely white, enhancing her resemblance to her twin brother.
Being born as twins was a common trait in the Lupi family, and Alba and Marina's father were among the most renowned for their unbreakable bond and their mastery of the distinctive abilities of their House. They had been the first to abolish the ancient matriarchy that had ruled for millennia, replacing it with a shared governance.
On the other side of the room, Marina's stepmother stood, and a look of surprise crossed her face—too pronounced to be genuine.
"Lady Alba, what a magnificent surprise."
"Spare me, Regina," she waved her off. "You know very well I'm here because you asked to meet."
"I thought I had specified the time of the meeting—"
"You did," the other replied almost instantly. "That's why I came early. And judging by what I see, I made the right choice."
Alba reached the armchair, casting a glance at Marina. She gave her a gentle nod, as if to say: Don't worry, I'm with you.
"Why is my niece here and I wasn't informed?"
At last, the stepmother also took her seat. The conversation could resume.
"Acquamarina and I simply needed to exchange a few trivial words. I haven't seen her in some time, and I was curious to know how her stay at Lilies Park was going."
Marina was irritated by the way the woman had stressed the word "stay," as if the years she had spent at the park were merely part of a temporary arrangement they had orchestrated. It was meant to remind her how her world and her freedom were illusions — merely choices made by her family. She was just the latest arrival, a vessel of genes too flawed to be of any real use. They couldn't place value on her without risking the destruction of the entire family's legacy.
A faint sound from the cradle drew the women's attention, and they turned in unison toward the baby. The Blendbreed gazed at the tiny figure lying in the bed, surprised by how innocent he looked against the harshness of that environment. The infant gurgled, clenching his chubby fists as if he already knew the language of curiosity.
"Of course, I also wanted Arthur to spend some time with her," she said, turning to Alba in a voice that tried to sound affectionate. "Since he was born, they've only seen each other once."
The little half-brother watched the people around him with a dreamy and serene gaze — eyes that Marina knew all too well: they were the same deep wine-red as her stepmother's. His hair, however, was milk-white, just like Marina's father's — a sign of the ancient and powerful legacy that ran through her as well.
She couldn't help but smile at the child. She hoped he might grow up differently — that he wouldn't become just another scion of House Leiss. Perhaps, at least ideally, her father would intervene at the right time and pull him away from the grim fate that awaited. That little infant was also a Lupi, after all.
The white-haired lady leaned back into the armchair beside her niece and crossed her legs.
"Enlighten me on the exact subject of this conversation."
Alba Lupi had always stood by Marina's side, ever since she was born. Even when her father had decided to send her to Lilies Park, Alba had confronted him in an attempt to change his mind. She had offered to intercede with the Daffodils Academy, suggesting that Marina remain there for a few months under the protective wing of her cousin — captain of the Silver Hawks, the second regiment of the Blendbreeds' army.
It had been a solid plan, but she knew it wouldn't work on her father. Alba's son, her cousin, Albus, would've left her alone the entire time, and at the end of the trial period, he would've claimed that Marina was more than fit to remain the heir of the Lupi. At that point, she would have been brought back to the villa and continued her life in peace.
Her father had rejected the offer and sent her to Lilies Park — something she hadn't minded at all in the end.
She was fine on her own. Often, she wished she were just a regular teenager, unbound by that family. She wanted to enjoy her life like a normal person.
Trying to avoid a full-blown argument, she quickly interrupted her father's sister.
"Um, Aunt, I don't think that—"
"Acquamarina! Lady Alba must be treated with the utmost respect."
"But what am I supposed to call her? She's my aunt…"
Ien's daughter lowered her gaze. She couldn't help but wonder how the head of the family had ended up marrying a woman like that. Every time the topic was brought up, Albert Lupi always avoided it—going as far as to listen to his wife's complaints and send his daughter to the other side of the nation rather than give her an answer.
"Marina is my niece. Her respect for me doesn't need to be shown through how she speaks, but through the actions she takes."
The woman stood and crossed her arms before saying,
"I need to finish this discussion elsewhere… and in private."
Ien's daughter turned her head toward her stepmother, noticing a faint sheen on her skin.
Sweat, she realized. She can barely hide her tension. She has control over her face, but hormones will always reveal her true emotions.
"Of course. Acquamarina, I'm sorry to dismiss you so abru—"
"Marina is the person I need to speak with," Alba interrupted. "I believe you misunderstood. It's you, Regina, who must excuse yourself."
Her stepmother's smile tightened, her gaze briefly darkened by a flicker of irritation she tried to mask behind a veil of false composure.
"Very well… I beg forgiveness for my misunderstanding, Lady Alba," she replied in a syrupy voice. "I only hoped Acquamarina might enjoy spending time with her younger brother. It seems I was mistaken."
Alba's wolves approached the cradle, drawn by the presence of the infant, and began to watch over him, waiting to be acknowledged. With a swift glance, Regina summoned the guards.
"Take the cradle out of the room."
Two men stepped forward, ready to move little Arthur, who lifted his head and looked at Marina with trusting, innocent eyes, as if he recognized her. The Blendbreed's heart ached to see the child taken away without even having had the chance to interact with him. She already felt the distance forming between them — that invisible barrier her stepmother intended to maintain at all costs.
"No, Mother, you're right," she interjected firmly. "Once we're finished, it will be a pleasure to spend time watching over him."
Regina tilted her head, her smile now appearing more genuine, though Marina could sense the subtle bitterness behind it.
"I understand, Acquamarina," she replied, almost satisfied by the answer. "Very well, until later."
With one last triumphant glance, she left the room, finally leaving the two Lupi alone — surrounded by a silence that now felt reassuring.
"Thank goodness," the young woman let herself fall back into the armchair. "Thanks for saving me, aunt."
"I'm actually in agreement with her."
"What?" she exclaimed, confused.
"Don't think I didn't know why you were here and what she intended to tell you."
"You too? So Dad knew?"
"Albert knew about the issue, but not that Regina wanted to summon you here."
Alba settled herself beside her, her gaze turning serious. "Anyway, you know I'm on your side. You're the daughter I never had, and precisely because of that, I worry."
Marina shook her head, heart pounding. "Shirei would never hurt me. Stop treating him like he's a monster."
She realized her tone too late, and the silence that followed was heavy with tension.
"I'm sorry," she admitted, lowering her gaze. "I didn't mean to answer like that."
"It's alright," the woman reassured her, shifting to gently stroke her hair. Her presence offered some comfort, though the weight of worry still lingered.
"Both my brother and I trust your judgment," Alba continued, "but we want you to be cautious with Cragar's children. Especially with…" she paused at the last moment. "What's the boy's name? Shirei, is that right?"
The correction came immediately, yet that small moment of hesitation didn't escape Marina.
"Yes…"
Alba looked at her, her crystal-blue eyes filled with deep concern. "There are things you can't ignore. This isn't just about you and Shirei. There's a past weighing on both your shoulders, and I just want you to be safe."
The girl felt her heart sink. "But I… I just want to understand him better. I want to know who he really is and why everyone treats him so cruelly."
"I don't doubt you mean well," her aunt replied, her voice calm but firm. "But this is still a story too big for you. Sometimes, the truth is more complex than we can imagine. Please, you have to trust me and your father."
She huffed. "Does Dad still think highly of me? Even though he had no qualms about sending me to the other side of the nation?"
"Albert is foolish sometimes and makes plenty of mistakes. I've always said he's the less intelligent of the pair," she managed to make her smile, "but he loves you and the little one more than anything in the world. There's nothing he wouldn't sacrifice for you. Do you understand?"
Marina nodded. Deep down, she knew those words were true, but her resentment toward her family wouldn't fade so easily.
"You know something about him, don't you? You know about Shirei's past and…" the words died in her throat.
The question had slipped out, a mix of anxiety and hope. She desperately wanted her to reveal what she knew—yet feared she wouldn't like the answer.
It had to be that way—after all, her cousin, Alba's son, had been at the Daffodils Academy for years. Shirei came from there, according to Lyceum, and unless that was a lie told to hide his true origin, it meant Albus had information about him.
"Even Aunt Alba and Dad know everything, more than I do."
She waited a few seconds for a response from the woman.
"Exactly," she finally confirmed.
"Why keep me in the dark? If I knew the truth, maybe I'd change my mind and follow your advice."
Alba seemed conflicted; words caught in her throat as she took a deep breath. The blonde wasn't used to seeing her react this way.
"We can't tell you," she declared at last.
Marina stiffened. "You can't?"
"Exactly."
The Blendbreed felt overwhelmed by a wave of confusion.
Can't or won't? she wondered, frustration rising inside her.
"Why?" she asked, almost desperate, trying to understand the reason behind that excuse. The Lupi were the most renowned family among the four noble houses, the only one older than the Third Era, according to the books even born at the dawn of the Second.
There is no position more important than ours. Even the Celestials heed the will of this family.
"Because your father and I made a vow to Fate when we became heads of the family. We cannot break it, for any reason."
Marina was shaken by the genuinely worried tone and expression of her aunt. That revelation weighed on her heart like a boulder, and questions crowded her mind even more.
What does this vow mean? What power does Shirei have to force the Lupi to remain silent? They did it by the will of the gods, so why must there be so much secrecy from them? They are deities. Shirei is powerful, but he's only a Blendbreed—Aena confirmed that.
Her mind raced in circles, and the mystery surrounding the figure of the Forbidden Heir grew thicker, leaving her with an unsettling sense of helplessness.
It's clear now there's more. Shirei is not just a Forbidden Heir or a son of Cragar—he has done something, something terrible… but what?
Alba looked at her, worry in her eyes. Marina understood the conversation was over, but her questions remained unanswered, like an echo in the silence of the room.
Perhaps she was really mistaken about Cragar's son.