I exhaled sharply through my nose. "And mother?"
"She left an hour ago," he said. "After greeting me, she—"
"Went hunting."
His expression darkened. "Yes."
I swallowed back the emotions threatening to choke me. My mother was out there right now, cutting through the ones responsible. I should have been with her.
"Who did this?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.
Father's gaze met mine. "A faction within the Empire. One that wants us dead."
I scoffed bitterly. "And you're only realizing this now?"
He didn't answer. I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply.
"Where is she?" I asked.
"She left no trail."
Of course, she didn't. My mother was methodical—an executioner in the dark.
I looked at him. "And what are you going to do?"
His lips pressed into a thin line. "We wait."
I almost laughed. "Wait?"
"It's not the time to move recklessly."
"They already moved recklessly," I snapped. "And our people died for it."
His expression didn't waver. "Which is why you will wait."
I inhaled sharply, my hands curling into fists. "And if I don't?"
His voice dropped lower. "Then you will die."
I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached. My entire body screamed to act, to move, to do something. But I knew he wasn't bluffing. Whoever did this..they were prepared. And if even my father was hesitating, then the enemy wasn't just strong.
They were terrifying.
But my mother is more terrifying. She'll most likely kill them all before they can grow into a major threat.
Father's expression didn't change much, but I noticed a flicker in his eyes—annoyance, amusement, or something else entirely.
"I met your mother during a war," he finally said, his voice even.
I raised an eyebrow. "And?"
He exhaled. "And she nearly killed me."
I straightened, arms folding over my chest. "You're serious?"
His lips quirked, almost amused. "Do I seem like the type to joke?"
"No," I scoffed. "You seem like the type to stay out of my life until our entire house explodes."
His gaze sharpened. "And yet, you still breathe."
I narrowed my eyes. "Because of her."
Father hummed, tilting his head slightly. "You think I contribute nothing?"
"You haven't been here." My voice was quieter now, but no less sharp. "Not for me. Not for Mother. You're more influential, sure, but that doesn't make you her. She fights. She protects. What do you do?"
For the first time, his expression hardened. "I ensure you have a world to live in."
I frowned. "What the hell does that even mean?"
He studied me for a long moment. Then, in a slow, deliberate voice, he said, "Your mother fights battles you can see. I fight wars you cannot."
I opened my mouth then closed it. Something about the way he said it sent a chill down my spine.
I forced a scoff. "Sounds convenient."
"Sounds necessary," he corrected.
I looked at him, truly looked at him, and for the first time, I wondered—how strong was my father? He never showed it. Never needed to. But that didn't mean he was weak.
I crossed my arms. "Are you even as strong as her?"
Father exhaled through his nose, then took a step forward, standing over me. He wasn't just tall—his presence was heavy. The air felt thicker, charged with something unseen.
"Your mother is a force of nature," he admitted. "But strength isn't always about power. It's about control. Influence." His gaze pinned me in place. "Your mother can cut down an army. I can make sure she never has to."
I clenched my jaw. "That doesn't answer my question."
He studied me for a moment before responding, "No. I am not as strong as her in battle."
I blinked. That was… surprisingly honest.
"But I am the reason no one dares fight her in the first place." His voice was calm, but there was an undeniable weight behind his words. "I don't need to be her. I need to be me. And you—" He took another step forward, gaze steady. "You need to decide what you will become."
I scoffed. "That's not an answer either."
"It's the only one you're getting."
Silence stretched between us. I held his gaze, refusing to be the first to look away.
Finally, I exhaled sharply and turned my head. "You still haven't answered why you even exist."
Father actually chuckled at that, low and dry. "Perhaps one day, you'll understand."
I wasn't sure if that irritated me more or intrigued me.
***
Hours Later
We were en route to the mountains, planning to hide out there. But on the way, we were ambushed. They told me to stay inside the carriage. Then, out of nowhere, an attack meant for my father struck the carriage instead—blasting me away and sending me hurtling into the unknown, to gods know where.
The world twisted violently, the carriage lurching as a deafening boom split the air. My body was thrown sideways, slamming into the wooden walls before the entire structure shattered. The sound of splintering wood and tearing metal filled my ears, and then—weightlessness.
Time seemed to freeze for a moment as the carriage was ripped apart around me. Then, gravity took hold.
I was falling.
The wind roared, yanking at my clothes as I plummeted through the darkened sky. My stomach lurched, and before I could even react—
CRASH.
My body collided with something hard. Branches snapped, slicing at my skin as I tore through the canopy. My descent turned into a brutal, uncontrolled tumble, my limbs flailing as I was tossed against rough bark and thick vines. Every impact sent shockwaves of pain through me, until—
SLAM.
I hit the ground hard, the impact forcing the air from my lungs. My body skidded, dirt and leaves catching in my hair as I finally came to a shuddering halt.
Everything was spinning. My vision swam, a dull ringing in my ears drowning out the distant echoes of battle. The scent of damp earth and freshly disturbed soil filled my nose, mixing with the faint, sharp tang of blood.
I blinked up at the night sky, trying to breathe. My chest ached. My limbs screamed in protest as I tried to move, every muscle pulsing with pain. But I wasn't dead.
Great. Now where the hell was I?