Chapter 185: Hunting season.
But deep down, she knew, even if she hadn’t come to meet her true father, it wouldn’t have changed anything. Azrael had known who she was from the very beginning. So maybe other people knew it as well.
Rail reached for her hand, his hand brushed hers, his touch gentle, seeking to comfort. But Gloria stepped back, shaking her head as she raised a hand to stop him. No. He needed to stay away. Stay safe. The further he was from her, the better.
Her fingers twitched, aching with the urge to reach out, to take Rail’s hand, to let herself lean on him just this once. The longing was almost unbearable. But she resisted. She had to. If she gave in now, she might fall too far, too fast, and she couldn’t afford that.
Rail’s brow furrowed, a flicker of hurt passing through his eyes. His heart clenched when she pulled away, denying the comfort he offered so freely. Still, he said nothing, sensing that words would only deepen the rift.
Across the room, Lord Alekin rose to his feet, his movements stiff, like he’d just seen a ghost.
He had seen this girl before, back when they first arrived in Jaigara. But he hadn’t looked at her, really looked. He hadn’t cared. And now, faced with her again, he realized the truth that had been hiding in plain sight: this was his daughter. The one he had believed dead.
"Lord Alekin, I hope you had a great day," Gloria greeted, her voice taut, each word slipping past her lips like cold stones. There was no warmth in her tone, only the practiced courtesy of someone who wished she didn’t have to speak at all.
She felt nothing for him. Not anger, not sorrow. Nothing. This man was a stranger.
In stark contrast to her indifference, the Lord of Zillgaira was unraveling. He stood frozen at first, like a rounded statue carved from grief, his face trembling as if tears were threatening to fall at any moment. Then, his lips parted, voice cracking under the weight of a single word.