Asher walked through the quiet upper halls of the Magnus estate. His steps were steady, and the red carpet under his boots made no sound. It wasn't late, but the hallway leading to Selene's room felt strangely quiet, like a place no one went unless they had to.
He stopped at the door.
This hallway had been the same since he was a boy. Back then, he would walk past it and never dare to knock. She never called for him. She never opened the door. And he never tried.
He raised his hand and knocked.
After a few seconds, he heard her voice. Calm and even. "Come in."
He opened the door and stepped inside.
The room was large but simple. It was neat, well-kept, with nothing flashy. Selene stood near the window, her long dark-silver hair tied back. She wore a plain crimson robe. Her back was straight. She didn't turn around right away.
When she finally did, her eyes met his. Cold, calm, and unreadable.
Update from Novel~Fire. (n)et
"You came," she said.
"I said I would," Asher replied, shutting the door behind him.
There was a long pause.
Then Selene spoke, her voice softer this time. "You know... your father was kind."
Asher's eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't remember him," he said. "No one ever told me much. I barely know who he was."
Selene looked away for a moment, then walked over to sit near a low table. "Then sit," she said. "It's time I told you."
Asher sat across from her, quiet.
She began slowly. "I met him during the second border war. He wasn't from a noble family. Just a soldier. Smart, strong, and calm. But what stood out the most was his kindness. He didn't try to impress me, didn't treat me like a noble. He just... saw me."
She paused, and for once, her voice lost that firm edge. "He made me feel human again."
"We didn't have a long time together," she went on. "Just a few years. But in those years, I stopped being a weapon. At least for a while."
She took a deep breath.
"He died protecting others. Not for me. Not for duty. Just because it was the right thing to do. He stood between an enemy ambush and a retreating village. He didn't make it."
Asher's fingers curled slightly, but he didn't speak.
"I was angry," Selene said. "At the war. At the weakness. At myself. And when I found out I was pregnant with you... I swore you'd never be weak. Never be lost like him."
"You raised me like a weapon," Asher said quietly.
"I did," she admitted. "Because I was afraid. I thought if you were strong enough, no one would ever take you away from me."
Asher looked at her. "That strength cost me a childhood."
Selene nodded. "I know. I don't expect forgiveness. I just wanted you to understand."
Asher stood up slowly. "You never told me all this before."
"I didn't think you'd want to hear it," she said.
"I don't know if I do," he replied honestly. "But I'm here. I listened."
She looked at him, and for the first time, her expression softened. "Thank you."
He stepped closer, then after a pause, he hugged her.
She stiffened at first—then slowly, carefully, returned the embrace.
It didn't last long. But it was real.
When he pulled back, she spoke again, her voice lower. "You're still the heir to this family. But more than that… you're the best of both of us."
Asher nodded slightly. "Then I'll protect what's left."
And with that, he turned and left the room.
No big words. No speeches. Just quiet truth.
And maybe, that was enough.
Asher stepped out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him.
He didn't say anything as he stood there for a moment, his back resting lightly against the wooden frame. The hallway was quiet, just like before—but something had changed. Not in the house. In him.
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
It hadn't been an emotional talk. There were no tears. No apologies that tried to fix everything. But it was honest. And for Asher, that was enough.
He didn't forgive everything—not yet. Maybe not ever. But at least now, he understood. And that truth, plain and simple, had loosened something heavy inside him. A burden that had been sitting on his shoulders since he was old enough to know what pain was… it was finally starting to fade.
He straightened and walked down the hall.
His steps felt a little lighter.
As Asher walked through the corridors of the Magnus estate, the quiet no longer felt suffocating. The portraits on the walls, the flickering soul-lamps, the long carpets woven with family crests—they were all the same. But now, they didn't feel like reminders of a life he had to escape.
He passed by the dining hall where Valeris, Veyra, Catherine, and Freya were gathered again. They noticed him right away. Catherine raised an eyebrow, Veyra tilted her head slightly, and Freya offered a soft smile. Valeris just leaned back in her chair, observing him with calm eyes that didn't press for anything.
Asher met their gazes, then gave a small nod.
No one asked. They didn't need to. That nod told them enough—that whatever storm had stirred inside him had started to settle.
Emily walked in from the kitchen with a pot of fresh tea and paused at the doorway, watching him. She gave him a knowing look, then quietly set the pot down.
Asher stepped closer to the table and finally pulled out a chair for himself. "Alright," he said, voice steady. "What did I miss?"
Catherine chuckled. "We were just debating who would win in a spar—Valeris or Veyra."
"Obviously me," Valeris said, smirking.
"In your dreams," Veyra replied with a playful scoff.
Freya giggled and slid a plate toward him. "We saved you breakfast, by the way. Emily made sure of it."
"Good," Asher said as he sat. "I'm starving."