That night, the palace was silent.
Serenil stood atop a marble balcony, overlooking the moonlit gardens. His silver hair swayed gently in the wind. Below, the three beastkin girls sat around a lit lantern, quietly chatting and laughing among themselves. It was one of the few times they behaved like children their age.
He felt a presence behind him.
"I don't understand you," Astarotte's voice said softly. "You're not like the other royals."
Serenil didn't turn around. "That's because I'm not."
A pause.
"You're hiding something."
"I hide many things."
Astarotte came beside him, her arms folded behind her back. "Those girls… they were meant to kill you. And yet you protect them."
"I saw more than just assassins. I saw victims."
A moment of silence passed before she whispered, "You're either a fool or a visionary."
Serenil turned his head slightly toward her. "Why not both?"
She let out a soft, dry laugh. "I still don't like you."
"You don't have to."
"I know," she replied. "But I'll tolerate you—for now."
As she walked away, Serenil stared up at the stars.
One beast princess on his left.
Three former assassins to his right.
And beneath it all… the Void slumbered, awaiting the day he would need it again.