"Aria."
Theo's voice pulled her back from the storm raging in her chest. She turned toward him, blood still dripping from her shoulder, her lips trembling—not from pain, but from the betrayal that still echoed in her heart.
Theo was calm. Too calm for what had just unfolded.
"I told Issac to do it."
The words landed like a slap.
Aria blinked, confused. "But… why, Uncle…?"
Her voice cracked.
Theo sighed; the weight of the last three days visible in his posture. He stepped closer, limping slightly—he could barely stand straight, and yet his presence filled the room like a mountain.
"It was your life lesson, Aria," he said quietly. "In every war… in every lifetime… there will come a moment where you are betrayed. At least once. Sometimes by someone close. Someone you trust."
Aria's breath hitched.
"And in that moment," Theo continued, "you'll want to give up. You'll freeze. You'll bleed. You'll think it's over. But you didn't give up, did you?"
She looked down. Her blade-worn hands were still shaking.
"You proved yourself," Theo said, stepping forward until he stood just before her. "You kept your promise. You didn't run. You fought. Even when you thought you were alone."
Aria's chest tightened. "But… that was cruel," she whispered. "You used me."
"I'm not Selene," he said, eyes hard. "I won't give you an easy path. Not here. Not in the North. If you stay here, Aria, your life will be harder than you've ever known. You will be tested, again and again—until even your soul bleeds."
He paused, letting that truth sink in.
"If you can't keep up…" His voice didn't soften. "Go back to the South. To your father. To safety."
The room was silent.
Aria's throat tightened. She didn't know what she felt. Anger? Shame? Grief?
"So… if I failed that day," she asked quietly, "I would have died out there. Alone. Is that what you're saying?"
Theo didn't hesitate. "Yes."
Her eyes welled up—but not from weakness.
Then Theo reached out and pressed a kiss to her forehead, bloody curls brushing his cheek.
"But I would never let you die," he murmured. "Even if I have to die in your place."
He turned his gaze to Abigel—who had remained silent, watching with his storm-gray eyes.
"The North will always protect her."
Abigel gave a firm nod. No words were needed.
Aria's gaze drifted to Issac.
He stood tall, head high, like a soldier proud of following orders. Not a flicker of guilt crossed his face—just the cold discipline of a knight who obeyed his master. The Black Knights… they didn't follow emotions. They followed commands.
"Don't be upset with him," Theo said firmly, reading her thoughts. "If you're going to be upset… then be upset with everyone in this room."
Aria blinked, startled. Her eyes moved across the space—only to find both her father, Kaelen, and Abigel standing silently behind her.
Her breath caught.
"So, everyone knew?" she shouted, voice rising like a crack of thunder.
No one replied.
The silence was louder than words.
But Aria—though only a child—was far more mature than most imagined. She remembered something. A moment from before. When the system had once screamed "LET HIM GO" while Icarus was dying. Even the system could betray when the time came.
So this was… a lesson.
Another one.
Kaelen stepped forward, the pain in his eyes unmistakable as he looked at his daughter—his blood, his light.
"You need to treat your wound," he said gently. "Aria… I didn't want this. But as a knight, I knew one day something like this would happen. I just never thought…" His voice cracked slightly. "I never wanted to see you lying lifeless in a bed."
Aria didn't answer. She simply gave a small nod.
Then she turned and walked toward the door, silent, steady.
Before leaving, she glanced back at Theo.
He stood tall despite the strain in his body, calm as ever, his sharp gaze watching her.
And in that moment, a thought crossed her mind—quiet and strange.
Maybe… in the next life, I'll be born as his daughter.
The room stayed silent long after her steps faded.
As Aria stepped into the clinic, the strong scent of herbs and blood hit her nose. The room was filled with knights—many wounded, many silent—receiving treatment in stoic silence. Yet as she walked past them, heads turned.
One by one, they gave her a nod.
Silent, steady.
Not of pity—but of respect.
Recognition.
She was no longer just the duke's niece or the southern princess. She was one of them now.
The air shifted.
"My lady," came a soft voice. Aria turned to see a kind-faced woman approaching. "I'll need to remove your clothing to treat the wound."
It was Maria—one of the most respected doctors in the North.
Aria nodded without hesitation.
But at Maria's words, the room fell silent.
There weren't many female knights in the kingdom. Wounds were usually treated without ceremony—but not like this. Not for someone like her.
"My lady…" Issac spoke up, his voice low, respectful. "Why don't you use our private room?"
Within moments, the men in the room stood and cleared out, giving her space.
Alone now, Maria carefully peeled back the blood-soaked fabric from Aria's shoulder.
The moment the cold medicine touched her open wound, Aria screamed.
It wasn't just pain—it was white-hot agony. The kind that shattered breath and scattered thoughts.
Outside, Kaelen stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides. He couldn't go in. He couldn't protect her from this.
Not this time.
Inside, Maria remained calm. "This will leave a mark, my lady," she said gently, dabbing the salve carefully. "But it will heal."
But Aria… she didn't answer.
Tears still clung to her lashes, her breath hitching in soft gasps.
And then, slowly, she fell asleep from exhaustion—her small body curling into itself on the cot.
{System: turning on… User exhausted… turning off}