Marina closed the door behind her with a sigh. The conversation with her aunt had left her tense, but now she had other things to think about.
She turned toward the room, dimly lit by the soft glow of a crystal chandelier. Regina was sitting in an armchair beside Arthur's cradle, nursing him with a smile. The scene felt almost unreal: her stepmother, usually so cold and calculating, now wore a serene, almost loving expression.
I never thought I'd see her like this, she told herself, crossing her arms.
The woman noticed her presence and looked up. The smile vanished from her lips, but the tone in which she spoke betrayed her usual composure.
"Did you finish your conversation with Lady Alba?" she asked, without much curiosity.
Marina nodded. "Yes."
Regina stood, moving with grace. After laying the child in the cradle, she tucked in his blanket gently. "You can stay with him as long as you want," she said, turning toward her goddaughter. "If you need anything, I'll be outside."
The Blendbreed remained still as the woman left the room, closing the door without a sound. She found herself alone with Arthur, her half-brother, a child she barely knew.
She approached the cradle with cautious steps. The baby had his eyes open and was watching her with a curious expression, his tiny fists clenched above his chest. She leaned in slightly, studying his face. His hair was a pure white—a color he shared with the parent they had in common. And yet, his eyes… those wine-colored irises were unmistakably Leiss.
"Well, you really are his son," she murmured, hinting a smile.
Arthur gurgled, waving his little hands. Marina ran a hand through her hair, unsure what to do. She had never held him before, and the idea made her uncomfortable. He was so small, so fragile.
What if I dropped him and he got hurt?
She couldn't stop imagining that possibility, so she just gently pushed the cradle, rocking the baby. "This is fine for you, right?" she asked rhetorically, with a relieved sigh.
Arthur stared at her, enchanted by the movement—and presumably by her. The Blendbreed decided to go a step further and made a few silly faces. She scrunched her nose, widened her eyes, puffed out her cheeks. The newborn watched her for a moment and then, to her great surprise, laughed.
A small, clear sound.
Marina felt her heart melt. Arthur…
Her lips curved into a full smile. "So you like me, huh? Thank goodness!"
She sat next to the cradle, resting one arm on its edge and lowering her voice slightly. "You know, little Arthur, there's something that worries me…" the baby stared at her, obviously unaware of her words, but the blonde continued. "Your mother seems so caring with you. I didn't think she was capable of affection. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe she truly is a good mother," she paused, a bitter smile on her lips, "or maybe she's just a witch who hasn't shown her true face yet."
Arthur yawned and clenched his tiny hands around the blanket. Marina extended a finger, and the little one, with an instinctive motion, grasped it. That touch made her chest tighten.
"But," she resumed, lowering her voice, "you don't have to worry. I'll be here. Even if part of your family is a nest of vipers, I'll always be on your side. Lupi are stronger when they stay in a pack."
The child stared at her with wide eyes, then suddenly smiled.
Marina felt tears sting her eyes and smiled back. She hadn't expected it—after all, Arthur couldn't possibly understand what she had said.
She looked away, trying to push back the sudden wave of emotion. "Hey! Don't look at me like that. You're making me sentimental," she pulled herself together and leaned in a bit closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you ever need someone… if you ever feel like you don't belong in this place… I'll always be ready to help you. Always."
Arthur slowly closed his eyes, as if her words had lulled even his soul.
The daughter of Ien stayed beside him, watching over him in silence for an indefinite stretch of time. His breathing had become steady, his chest rising and falling with the softness of a bird's wing.
He was asleep.
And yet, she couldn't look away.
She stroked her wrist, where her skin was still warm from the brief contact with the child's little hand. The words she had just spoken echoed in her mind: I'll always be ready to help you.
Had she meant them?
Those words implied that she would do anything to stay in that family, that one day she would take her place at the table of the heads of the house.
Did she truly want that?
She sighed, bringing a hand to her forehead. Maybe she'd gotten carried away by the moment. Maybe it was just the exhaustion, the weight of that house tightening around her like a noose.She searched for the reason she couldn't bring herself to leave the room.
Why? she asked herself, before arriving at the answer. For you… I truly want to protect you from everything and everyone, far from the monsters and the experiments the Leiss will subject you to.
As those thoughts crowded her mind, she heard a faint creak behind her. She turned instinctively, her heart skipping a beat. The door hadn't opened, but someone had just peeked in.
"Mother?"
No—the steps were too light.
She stood up carefully, making sure not to make a sound. With one last glance at her brother, she stepped toward the door, letting her fingers lightly touch the smooth wood. She opened it a crack.
The hallway was draped in shadows. The silhouette of someone stretched across the velvet carpet. Marina felt her muscles tense. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open a bit more.
"Who is it?" she asked, keeping her tone neutral.
For a moment, there was no reply. Then her aunt's figure emerged from the dimness.
"You shouldn't still be here."
Marina leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. "Why not?"
The woman didn't answer right away. Her gaze shifted for a moment past Marina, toward the cradle. "You can't get too attached to him."
The girl frowned. "What?"
Her aunt stepped closer, and her face became clearer under the lantern's soft light. There was something odd in her expression—a subtle tension that made her look older. "Arthur is still young," she said. "You can't know what kind of man they'll turn him into. Regina is one thing, but you can't trust the Leiss."
Marina clenched her teeth. "That's not a valid reason to treat him like he doesn't matter."
"I didn't say that," she lowered her voice slightly. "You know the noble families better than any other Blendbreed. You know what happens to those born under our name, and you know what is expected of a new heir."
Her words were a whisper, but they struck Marina like a whip. She knew what she meant. She knew that childhood was only an illusion, that one day even Arthur would be swallowed by the weight of the name he carried.
She turned to the cradle, as if hoping to find an answer in the peaceful face of the sleeping child who still knew nothing of the world.
"If that truly is his fate," she murmured, "then he needs me even more."
For a moment, her aunt stared at her in silence. Then she gave a small, almost melancholic smile. "You're stubborn, niece."
"Whose fault do you think that is?" she shot back, raising an eyebrow.
Alba lowered her gaze, shaking her head. For a moment it seemed like she wanted to say something else, but she simply took a step back. "You're right. Come on," she said at last. "Regina will be arriving soon."
Marina hesitated for a moment. She turned once more toward Arthur.
It felt wrong to leave him, but she knew her aunt was right.
She approached the cradle and, in an instinctive gesture, brushed the child's forehead with a finger and placed a kiss there. "See you soon, Art," she whispered. Then she turned and followed Alba into the darkness of the corridor, ready to leave the manor behind.