“I don’t want to leave, Father! I want to stay here, I know I can help!” Lyanna cried out, her voice rising even as her eyes shimmered with restrained emotion.

Aiden gazed at his daughter in silence. Her face looked graceful and gentle on the surface, but he knew better. Beneath all that, Lyanna had a will forged of steel. She had always been that way since childhood. Stubborn like her mother, though more impulsive.

He shook his head slowly. “This place is not safe, Anna,” he said firmly, though his tone still carried a father’s tenderness. “There are many nobles who wish to bring me down, and now… there are reports that the Mordune Army is preparing to march toward this city.”

Lyanna clenched her fists. She didn’t care. “I won’t go, Father.”

“Anna…” Aiden drew a deep breath, then looked at his daughter with a cold expression—not from hatred, but because he had no other choice. “I just want to protect you.”

Then came the next words, like a blade.

“If you stay here, you’ll only be a burden.”

Lyanna’s jaw tightened at once. She gritted her teeth, her eyes widening slightly with a mix of shock, hurt, and anger. But she said nothing.

Aiden continued, his voice turning resolute, leaving no room for protest. “You will leave with your mother, Daphne, Melly, and her brother. I’ve already prepared a carriage. You will leave the city quietly at midnight tomorrow and hide in Pottersfield village.”

“No one knows of your departure. No one knows the location of your hiding place,” he added flatly, as if delivering military orders, not speaking to his own child.

Lyanna stared at her father in silence. Her breath trembled. Her eyes glinted with restrained fury, but she did not utter a single word. When Aiden finished speaking, she turned on her heel and left the room at once, her steps quick and heavy.

Her shoulders were stiff. The veins on her temples, forehead, and neck had begun to bulge slightly, a sign of the immense pressure she was holding back. She didn’t cry. But her anger boiled inside her like molten iron.

Watching his only daughter’s back disappear beyond the doorway, Aiden could only let out a long sigh and sink into his chair. He knew Lyanna would hate him for this. But he couldn’t take the risk. Not now. Not with the storm closing in.

Halfway through the corridor, Lyanna’s steps began to slow.

She saw a figure walking from the opposite end.

A long black gown trailed near the floor. Crimson eyes, sharp and unreadable. A face that was too calm, too quiet, as if untouched by the world.

Ashtoria.

By instinct, Lyanna halted. She tried to steady her expression, forcing herself to remain composed despite the storm still raging in her chest. She bowed slightly and greeted her. “Your Majesty.”

Ashtoria turned and glanced at her briefly. Her gaze was cold, not out of malice, but because her mind was clearly elsewhere. She said nothing and simply continued walking.

Lyanna stood still for several seconds. She bit her lower lip, her eyes staring blankly ahead.

Then she resumed walking, silent and tight-lipped. Her cloak fluttered behind her with every motion of her tense frame.

A few moments later, at the next bend in the corridor, she encountered someone else.

A man with olive-toned skin, disheveled black hair, and sharp eyes. At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about him. Yet somehow, he had a younger sister with three affinities and an A-Rank Talent. And he had a connection—however inexplicable—with that terrifying mad queen.

Riven.

Lyanna stopped walking. For some reason, her irritation had yet to subside, and the man’s presence ignited something else entirely within her.

And now, the two stood face-to-face.

“My lady,” Riven said, bowing slightly in a polite gesture. “Pardon the interruption, but… may I ask where my sister is now? How is she? And how long have I been unconscious?”

Lyanna paused. Her gaze remained sharp, her jaw clenched as if the fire from her earlier argument still lingered. Yet she answered, her voice composed with the dignity of nobility, albeit laced with coldness.

“Your sister is well,” she said without ceremony. “She was not injured. At the moment, she has locked herself inside the family training chamber. Since that incident… she hasn’t stepped out once.”

She fell silent for a moment, then added as she looked straight ahead, her tone slightly mocking though still refined.

“Your sister… is rather bold.”

Riven didn’t reply immediately. The words “locked herself in” echoed painfully in his mind. He looked down briefly, then asked again, this time more softly.

“How long has she shut herself in? Has she seemed sad… or gloomy? Has she been eating properly?”

Lyanna looked somewhat surprised by the barrage of questions. Her brows lifted for a fleeting second before she answered, maintaining her noble tone.

“I can’t say for sure if she’s been eating properly, or whether she has looked sad,” she replied. “All I can say is… she appears to be doing fine.”

She turned back to him, her gaze slightly softened but still distant.

“As for visiting you…” she continued, “she never did. She hasn’t left that chamber since you lost consciousness. And that… has been two days.”

Riven fell silent. He lowered his eyes, and his jaw began to tense again. Two days. Without leaving. Without saying anything. Was his sister truly shaken by what she saw?

A faint wrinkle formed on his brow. He exhaled slowly, then asked again.

“In that case… where is Lord Rathsture now? I would like to speak with him.”

The question made Lyanna stiffen. Her gaze shifted instantly. The anger that had started to fade now returned in full force, though she held it back.

“And what business do you have with my father?” she asked calmly, though her tone had sharpened slightly.

“I wish to discuss… the matter of adopting my sister,” Riven answered honestly.

A faint smile appeared at the corner of Lyanna’s lips—a smile that was difficult to read. It was nearly cynical, though her elegance remained intact.

“There’s no need for that.”

Riven raised an eyebrow in confusion. Before he could ask further, Lyanna continued, her tone measured and meaningful.

“Your sister already met with him. On her own.”

Riven was surprised. But Lyanna didn’t stop.

“With remarkable courage… she told him that she did not wish to be adopted into our family. We tried to persuade her. We even explained that she would still be able to see you as often as she liked. But she refused. Firmly.”

Her tone now sounded almost bewildered, as if she still could not believe the decision of a mere child.

“And it was a generous offer.”

Riven had no words. Behind his surprise, something warm stirred inside him. The doubt, the guilt… slowly dissolved. In their place was a quiet pride.

His sister truly was… that kind of girl.

Small, stubborn, and incredibly brave.

Lyanna glanced sideways at him, then spoke softly. Whether it was praise or scorn, it was hard to tell.

“She is… quite the brave girl. Very brave indeed.”

She let out a quiet breath, then continued.

“Do you know… what she said after refusing us?”

Riven simply looked at her, waiting.

Lyanna returned his gaze. There was a pause. Then she said quietly,

“She said…”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep