"And I am angry at that boy for what he did to us, but I won't go after him. For what your father had done to him, that boy had taken his revenge, but you shouldn't. You should not stop living your lives because of your tempered feelings."

"You have gone against my word twice now, and hereafter, if I see you leave the house, you will not only be fatherless but motherless too."

Yaelena was aware of Hawkin killing Ser'gu and his whole clan. How he massacred the innocent people. She always felt that Hawkin was inhumane and cold, but after hearing it, she thought he was a monster and his whole clan too.

She only married him because her father made her.

So when Jorghan came to the wedding, she wasn't shocked but terrified. After a few days, she had come to terms with Hawkin's death and lived her life, but seeing how her children were going after that boy, she felt angry.

She didn't want to lose her children because of avenging a man who wasn't worth their time.

Before Constance could respond, there was a knock at the door.

A woman entered, tall and lean, wearing the practical uniform of a military officer, her dark hair pulled back severely.

Yvonne Greysar, now acting as the family's military liaison.

"Lady Carrow," Yvonne said with a respectful nod to Yaelena, then turned to Constance.

"Lady Constance. I apologize for not aiding during the desert operation."

She moved to stand beside Yaelena, her posture shifting from formal to concerned.

She had heard what Yaelena said.

"With respect, Lady Constance, I agree with your mother. You and Caden have done your duty to the family name. You've proven your capabilities and earned your ranks through merit. But this—" she gestured to Caden's broken form, "—this is not sustainable.

The Empire has other soldiers, other assets. You don't need to sacrifice yourselves."

Constance's jaw tightened, her hands gripping the armrests of her chair.

"You're saying we should abandon the mission. Let the Sol'vur heir go unpunished for what he did to Father, for the soldiers we lost."

"I'm saying you should live," Yaelena said, her voice carrying the weight of maternal authority. "Whatever vengeance you think you owe your father, he doesn't deserve it."

"Mother, Father is…," Constance replied, her voice cracking slightly.

"That half-blood monster did this to my brother, and he killed him in front of you and Caden."

"That 'monster' let you escape," Yvonne pointed out quietly.

"The reports indicate he had you both defeated and could have killed you easily. But he let you go. Let you carry Caden to safety. Why do you think he did that?"

Constance was silent, her mind going back to that moment on the battlefield.

Jorghan standing over them, nine feet of transformed power, eyes blazing with light that seemed to pierce into her soul. He could have ended them both with casual effort.

But he'd chosen mercy.

Or strategy.

She'd been thinking about it constantly during the 15 days since their return.

Why spare enemies who'd come to kill him? Why let potential future threats escape?

The obvious answer was messaging: let survivors report back, let fear spread through Imperial ranks, and make future operations more costly both politically and materially.

But there'd been something in his eyes in that final moment.

Not cold calculation, but something like familiarity.

As if he'd wanted to avoid more unnecessary death.

It didn't fit with the image of a monster, of a bloodthirsty half-blood seeking glory through violence. It suggested something more complex, more human, someone who fought when necessary but didn't relish the killing.

"I don't know," Constance finally admitted.

"I don't understand him. His power, his choices, none of it matches the pattern we expected."

"Then perhaps," Yaelena said gently, "that should tell you something. Perhaps this isn't a simple revenge mission against a clear enemy. Perhaps it's more complicated than that."

She placed her hand on Constance's shoulder.

"You've done enough, daughter. Both of you. Let this go. Focus on Caden's recovery, on rebuilding your own strength. The Empire has other concerns, other conflicts. The desert clans aren't worth destroying my family over."

Constance looked at her brother's unconscious form, at the medical readouts showing vital signs that were stable but far from healthy. She thought about the moment the Detri had taken hold, the way Caden's body had convulsed, and the screams that had been barely human.

He'd been willing to die to kill Jorghan. To avenge their father, to prove their worth, to succeed where their father had failed.

And he'd almost succeeded in the dying part.

"I'll consider it," Constance said quietly, which was as close to agreement as she could currently manage.

"But I need time."

"Take the time you need," Yaelena said.

"But remember, you have a family here who loves you, who wants you alive and whole. Whatever duty you think you owe the Empire or your father, your first duty is to survive."

She left after that, her footsteps echoing down the medical wing's corridor.

Yvonne lingered a moment longer.

"For what it's worth, Commander," she said quietly, "I'm glad you both made it back. The Empire needs soldiers like you—skilled, dedicated, and principled. But it needs you alive to serve, not dead for glory."

Constance nodded absently, her thoughts already drifting back to the desert, to the battle, to the crimson-eyed warrior who'd dismantled everything they'd brought against him.

Jorghan Sol'vur.

The name carried weight now, carried meaning beyond just another target designation. He was a phenomenon, a force that had shifted the political and military landscape through sheer demonstration of power.

And Constance couldn't decide if she hated him for what he'd done or respected him for how he'd done it.

Perhaps both.

*

The Mantaron Chamber - Imperial Palace

In another part of the capital city, in the grand and majestic palace, a few people were meeting.

The chamber was circular, with twelve seats arranged around a central dais where the Emperor himself would sit when present.

Currently, the throne remained empty; the Great Emperor Valenmarch was dealing with other matters, leaving the Mantarons to conduct preliminary discussions without his direct oversight.

The Mantarons were the Emperor's closest advisors, individuals selected for their expertise in different aspects of Imperial governance.

Military, economic, magical research, intelligence, and diplomacy, each seat represented a different pillar of the Empire's power structure.

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