"The little mermaid, having sacrificed her voice for love, watched as the prince married another, never knowing she was the one who saved him. As her heart broke, the sea embraced her once more, but instead of dissolving into seafoam, she rose as a guardian spirit of the waves. From then on, she guided lost sailors home, her silent song heard only by the hearts that truly listened."
Caelum closed the ornate storybook with a soft thud, his deep voice carrying the bittersweet weight of the ending. Nestled peacefully on his lap was Pixie, her tiny frame breathing gently against his chest, already fast asleep halfway through the story.
"She already fell asleep, Father," Luna said with a smile, her black and golden eyes softening as she watched the pair.
They were in the grand garden of the Black Tower, though these days, it was no longer called that. Emerald Tower, Pixie had declared days ago, and no one had dared to disagree. It would remain so… at least until she changed her mind again.
"My Lord, allow me to carry the Regent so you may rest," Calixira offered politely, bowing with reverence.
"It's alright, Calixira. I'll handle her," Caelum replied gently, adjusting his hold on Pixie with practiced care. Then he turned his gaze to Luna. "It seems someone wishes to speak with you, Kitten."
Luna followed his gaze toward the garden entrance. Standing at its edge was Naelira, composed and poised, though her aura betrayed the storm she carried within. A demon attendant approached, stopping respectfully a few paces away.
"My Lord. Mistress Luna." The attendant bowed low. "Lady Naelira requests an audience with you, Mistress."
"I'll take Pixie to my chambers," Caelum said casually, speaking to no one in particular. He handed the storybook to Calixira before rising with the sleeping child still in his arms. With a brief nod to Luna, he added with a smile, "Be kind, Kitten."
He walked toward the Tower's arched entrance followed silently by five of Pixie's hand-picked attendants.
"Tell her to approach, and all of you, leave us," Luna commanded, her tone cutting through the garden like cold steel.
The attendants gave a final bow and quietly withdrew.
Luna remained where she sat, in the center of the lush garden where moonflowers bloomed even in daylight. A table before her was filled with Pixie's favorite treats, rose tarts, starlight candies, moonberry cakes, and chocolate truffles, but untouched now. Only her own coffee remained warm beside her porcelain fingers.
She didn't need to glance at Naelira to know she was approaching. The subtle rustle of leaves, the whisper of shoes on grass, and the quiet tension in the air told her all she needed.
She had expected this. Not only because her Foresight had whispered hints of it, but because she was a woman. A woman who knew what it meant to love a man that another adored.
Cosmo had told her days ago that Tuf appointed Naelira as a new Duskborn Representative in the High Council. It was a powerful move. One that many mistook for favor.
But Luna knew better. And so did Naelira.
Tuf had done it the moment Luna had admitted her jealousy. That she hated how Naelira saw him every day, spoke with him in private, laughed with him, while she, Luna, had to pretend to be nothing but his perfect sister in public.
Tuf, as always, acted without delay. He removed the source of her jealousy, transferring Naelira away from his side.
It should've pleased her. But Luna's heart wasn't that simple.
Because deep down, she knew that wasn't the only reason Tuf did it.
He was still protecting Naelira, from her.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. She, the daughter of the Demon Lord, was jealous of the woman Tuf had personally chosen to keep closest for so long.
"Mistress Luna."
Naelira's voice broke through the silence as she reached the center of the garden.
She bowed low, her golden hair cascading over her shoulder like molten silk. There was respect in her voice, but Luna felt it. The readiness. The silent declaration.
'If I must fight for him, I will.'
"Speak," Luna commanded coldly, her voice like the snap of winter steel. She made no effort to offer Naelira a seat, no gesture of welcome, no hint of civility. Not even a glance of warmth.
Naelira raised her eyes slightly. "Have I offended you, Mistress?"
"You tell me," Luna replied, finally meeting her gaze. Her eyes were blank, cold, and unforgiving as she took a slow sip of her coffee. "Have you?"
"I… honestly do not know," Naelira admitted, her voice steady despite the heaviness in her chest. "That is why I came. To understand what I've done. Why you had to command Master Tuf to cast me aside."
Luna gently set her cup down on the table.
She didn't like that she had to look up at Naelira.
But she still refused to offer her a seat.
It was a message.
'You are not my equal.'
"And what made you think I told him to discard you?" Luna asked softly, deceptively. "Shouldn't you have seen this coming?"
She tilted her head slightly, a mockery of innocence. "My brother plays with many women, you know. Toys with them. Uses them. Discards them like broken things when he's done. You should know that better than anyone. After all… aren't you the one who's been cleaning up after him all these years?"
Naelira's breath hitched, but she didn't deny it.
"I know what you are to each other," Naelira said, quieter now. "You're not just siblings. You're his lover."
"And?" Luna's lips curled into a slow, venomous smile. She leaned back with effortless elegance, the light catching the gold in her eye. "Are you here to threaten me? Planning to spread our secret across the Empire?"
She laughed, low, dangerous.
"Go ahead. I dare you."
Then her smile vanished, and her voice dropped to a blade's edge.
"But let me tell you one thing, elf. The moment you do, you won't face my wrath."
Her fingers slowly traced the rim of her cup.
"You've served him for over five centuries. You must've seen it. Once. Twice. Maybe more. That rare moment when he gets truly angry. When that calm mask shatters."
Luna's voice turned lethal.
"I would give you a swift, merciful death. But he wouldn't. And you know that."
She leaned forward slightly.
"He would let you live. Long. Miserable. Empty. He would make sure your heart shattered so many times it forgot how to beat."
Naelira couldn't speak.
She had thought herself prepared. She had rehearsed a hundred versions of this conversation. She had steeled herself to fight for the man she loved.
But she had been delusional.
How do you fight for a heart that already belongs to someone else?
Her knees gave out as she collapsed before Luna, tears slipping past her lashes. Her hands trembled as she pressed them to the ground, her voice breaking.
"I've always known my place," she whispered. "I've protected your secret as if it were my own. I never once competed with you. I stayed professional when you were around. I made sure of it. So why? Why did you still have me cast aside?"
Luna chuckled, unmoved, untouched.
"Compete?" she repeated, voice like silk woven with poison. "You think you were a competition?"
She stood slowly, her presence towering despite her soft frame. She stepped forward, standing over Naelira, and then, she grabbed her jaw.
Not gently.
Luna's hand clamped down, claws unsheathing at her thumb and index finger, slicing shallow cuts into Naelira's flawless cheek. Blood beaded where the sharp edges bit in.
"You think I'm a fool?" she hissed.
"You kept our secret because you hoped to use it. You were biding your time. Calculating. But I see through you, elf."
She released Naelira with a shove that sent her off balance.
"You talk of professionalism?" Luna's voice surged like a rising storm. "Even with your eyes lowered, you gloated. I could feel it. Smell it. That smug pride, because he let you stay beside him. Because you were the one removing other women from his life. You thought you had power. You thought you mattered."
She bent lower, her face now level with Naelira's, so close the elf could feel the coldness radiating from Luna's skin.
"You believed being there every day, beside him, gave you an edge over me."
She never broke eye contact. Not once.
Naelira's tear-filled gaze met hers, but she didn't speak. Couldn't. A long silence fell between them, heavy and stifling. She didn't know how to deny Luna's accusations, because deep inside, she couldn't.
Every word Luna spoke… was true.
She had grown confident. Being the woman constantly seen at Tuf's side, while Luna remained hidden, his most closely guarded secret, had given her a false sense of permanence.
She had stayed while others were cast aside. She had outlasted countless nameless lovers. And unlike them, she had a name, 'Naenae' his little flame.
While others were his "Sugars," sweet and temporary, she believed herself to be the one that lingered. She had let herself believe she was different.
Special.
And in that belief… she had dared to dream. And she got cocky.
"But to tell you honestly," Luna's voice sliced back into her thoughts. "I never asked him to discard you."
Naelira blinked.
"That is beneath me."
Luna's lips curled into a smile. Triumphant. Almost pitying.
"I did tell him I was jealous of you," she added with deliberate softness, like a knife dragged slowly across silk.
Naelira flinched, surprised not by the confession, but by the ease with which it was given.
"You must be wondering why I'm telling you this," Luna went on, stepping closer again, crouching just slightly to meet her gaze, her voice dipping into something dangerous and sweet.
"It's simple."
Her smile widened.
"Because you being here, kneeling in front of me, begging me, tells me one very important thing… You don't know my brother the way I do. Not even close."
There was no hatred in her tone now, only clarity. Cold and sharp.
"And it was foolish of me to ever feel threatened by you."
She straightened gracefully, as if rising from a throne.
"You see," she continued, her words now laced with venomous amusement, "when I found out he appointed you to the High Council, I was furious. Furious at you. I thought he was still protecting you. Giving you power. Giving you distance, from me. Because that's the one place I couldn't touch you."
Her voice dropped.
"And then you came crawling back."
Naelira trembled.
"And by kneeling at my feet, for him, you discarded the only gift he ever gave you: safety."
Luna's expression turned almost wistful.
"So go ahead. Do whatever you want, elf. Remain in the High Council. Return as his secretary. Follow him beyond the Mist. I don't care. Not anymore."
She turned slightly, her tone hardening with finality.
"Because it doesn't matter. You've disappointed him. Gravely."
The words hit harder than any blade.
"He must've believed you knew him well enough to understand why he had to send you away. That you'd stay silent. Stay smart. That you'd trust him. But you proved him wrong."
Luna's mismatched eyes glittered.
"And he does not take disappointment lightly."
She walked away, each step echoing like a gavel falling.
"There's no coming back for you now."
She paused a few steps away and added, almost lazily, "You do know he has eyes everywhere in this tower. By now… he already knows you came to see me."
"And you know what?" Her smile returned. "Thank you for coming."
A wicked glint sparked in her eyes.
"You just eased all my worries."
With that, Luna turned and walked away, her silk dress flowing behind her.
She stopped near the dessert table and looked back one last time at the broken woman still kneeling on the stone path.
"Take some chocolate with you," she said sweetly, gesturing to the untouched sweets. "They say it helps lessen pain. You might need it."
She picked up a truffle between two fingers, studied it, then let it fall back onto the plate with disinterest.
"I wouldn't know. I never liked chocolate. Not that I ever needed them, anyway," she added as she walked away, humming a soft, haunting melody under her breath.