Chapter 115: Chapter 115: The Sweetheart

The Frasner house met them with warm light and quiet competence.

No palace drama, no performative guards. Just a clean path, a front door that opened before they reached the steps, and the scent of something baked that made Rafael immediately suspicious of “normal” as a concept.

Daniel was waiting in the entryway like a man who’d been stationed there as a human shield.

Philip hovered behind him, visibly relieved they’d actually shown up.

Bruno leaned against the wall with the posture of someone trying to look casual while also clearly terrified of disappointing his mother.

Rafael clocked it at once.

They weren’t afraid of Gregoris. They were afraid of their mother being hurt.

Daniel stepped forward first, quick and polite. “You made it.”

Gregoris’s expression didn’t soften, but his grip on Rafael’s hand tightened like he was bracing himself and pretending he wasn’t.

Bruno’s eyes flicked to Rafael’s coat, then to Gregoris, and he murmured, “Good. We can all live another day.”

Philip shot him a look. “Bruno.”

Bruno shrugged. “It’s true.”

Rafael arched a brow. “So you’re more scared of her disappointment than him killing you?”

Daniel winced, like Rafael had spoken the taboo out loud.

Philip sighed. “Yes.”

Bruno nodded, entirely unashamed. “Yes.”

Gregoris said nothing. Which, for Gregoris, was practically an admission.

Before Rafael could add something sharper, the sitting room door opened.

And Catherine Frasner appeared.

She was… a sweetheart, in the most disarming way. Not soft in the fragile sense, not sugary or performative like Delphine, just warmth that didn’t ask permission to exist and didn’t hide teeth behind it either.

She was about Rafael’s height, built long and elegant, with straight blonde hair that fell down her back in a loose sheet of gold, gathered only by a simple clasp that caught the light when she moved. Her eyes were silver.

The same shade as Gregoris’s.

That resemblance landed first, as if Gregoris’s face suddenly had context. Then the rest of her expression hit, open, relieved, and quietly affectionate, like she’d been holding her breath since the announcement went out and had only now decided she was allowed to exhale.

Her gaze found Rafael immediately.

She wasn’t interested in analyzing his clothes, status, or the bump she couldn’t see unless she looked for it.

Rafael.

“Oh,” Catherine said softly, with a tone of recognition rather than surprise. “There you are.”

Rafael blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of it.

Not ’who are you?’ Not ’so you’re the spouse.’ Not ’how dare you?’

Just ’there you are,’ as Rafael arrival was the appropriate way to end an anxious sentence.

Catherine crossed the room with calm, unhurried steps, stopping at a distance that felt respectful rather than cautious. Up close, the silver in her eyes was even clearer. The sort of gaze that could see through people without making a sport of it.

“You’re Rafael,” she said, her voice soft and confident.

Rafael managed, “Yes.”

Her smile widened. “I’m Catherine.”

Rafael’s reflex tried to dress it in formality. “Lady Frasner.”

Catherine’s mouth twitched as if she found that adorable and entirely unnecessary. “Catherine. Please.”

Rafael’s eyes flicked to Gregoris for half a second, searching for the trap.

Gregoris didn’t rescue him. He just stood there, like watching his mother be kind was somehow harder than watching an enemy draw a blade.

Catherine’s gaze shifted to her son, and something softened in her face, affection first, then the tired kind of hurt that didn’t need anger to be sharp.

“Gregoris Aurelian Frasner,” she said with a tone that meant there would be no dodging this.

Rafael straightened without thinking.

Gregoris only lifted a brow, almost lazily. “Mother.”

“We need to talk,” Catherine said, as if the full name address was not enough of a warning.

Daniel made a small sound behind them that could’ve been a cough or a prayer. Philip’s shoulders went tight. Even Bruno looked like he’d suddenly remembered consequences existed.

Gregoris tried, because of course he did. “After dinner.”

Catherine didn’t move. “No. Now. Just a minute.”

Gregoris blinked once, like the refusal surprised him more than any battlefield ever had. “No?”

Catherine took a step closer, close enough to be personal and maternal. She lifted a hand and adjusted his tie with casual familiarity, the way you’d fix a son before a photo, before a school event, before anything important.

“You look handsome,” she said quietly.

Gregoris went very still, as if the tenderness of that was the real threat.

Then Catherine looked up at him, silver eyes bright.

“I found out you were married because the palace announced it,” she said, and her voice didn’t shake, but Rafael could feel the hurt in it, and damn, he felt a sharp guilt because of it. “I found out I’m going to be a grandmother the same way everyone else did. That’s what hurt.”

Rafael’s throat tightened. He suddenly felt like he shouldn’t be here for this.

Gregoris’s jaw worked once. “I didn’t…”

“I know what you didn’t do,” Catherine said softly, without being harsh or accusing. “You didn’t call. You didn’t send a message. You didn’t even send one of your stiff little notes you use when you’re pretending feelings are a paperwork problem.”

Bruno made a strangled sound that was almost laughter.

Philip shot him a look that promised pain.

Daniel stared at the wall like he could disappear into it.

Gregoris’s expression stayed controlled, but Rafael saw it, the slight crack beneath the control, the way Gregoris held himself like armor even when the weapon was simply a mother saying she missed him.

Catherine’s gaze flicked to Rafael then, and the warmth returned immediately, like she refused to put him in the crossfire.

“This isn’t about you,” she said gently. “You’re welcome here, Rafael. I’m glad you came.”

Rafael swallowed, then managed, careful and sincere, “Thank you.”

Catherine turned back to Gregoris, and her voice softened further, which somehow made it worse. “It’s about you.”

“Have a talk with me and your father before the dinner.” She turned to the other sons. “Boys, make sure Rafael feels comfortable.” And she left fully expecting Gregoris to follow her.

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