The external clamor of the palace had dissolved into a heavy, velvet-lined silence. The scene shifted to Queen Astria's private chambers.
Where the air was thick with the faint scent of sandalwood and the rhythmic flicker of burning wax tapers.
The walls, crafted from towering, intricately carved stone, seemed to absorb every stray sound from the world outside, creating a vacuum of forced peace.
In the corner of the room, upon a magnificent velvet sofa, Len lay sprawled with a casual indifference.
As always, a thick, leather-bound tome was clutched in his small hands. He lay on his back, his legs swinging slightly in the air.
As if the high-tension drama of the Grand Hall had never occurred. His eyes were submerged in the ancient script etched across the pages.
And not even the shadow of the world's most powerful throne could break his concentration. Astria stood in the center of the room, watching him.
The rigid, regal mask she wore in court had softened into a complex blend of deep anxiety and maternal concern.
She adjusted her heavy silk gown and moved closer, stopping just short of the sofa. "Len..." Astria's voice began as a soft whisper, laced with a honeyed affection.
"What kind of behavior was that today? Do you have any idea how you conducted yourself before the guards and the high officials?"
Len turned a page. The crisp rustle of the paper echoed sharply in the quiet room. He did not turn his neck, nor did he offer a sound of acknowledgment.
He studied a line or a diagram on the page with such intensity that it felt as if Astria's very presence had ceased to exist.
His silence was an impenetrable fortress. Astria took a long, measured breath, her fists tightening within the folds of her silk skirts.
When she realized that her gentleness was being met with a wall of indifference, the sweetness abruptly drained from her tone.
Her voice emerged cold, metallic, and resonant with absolute authority. "Len! Will you answer my questions, or am I to assume you have lost your tongue entirely?"
Astria's stern, commanding voice struck the walls and vibrated back through the chamber. The weight of that tone shifted the very atmosphere.
Len's hands, which had been busy turning pages, suddenly stilled. He slowly rested the book against his chest and sat up on the sofa.
His hair fell over his forehead, but the innocence that usually occupied his gaze had been replaced by something far more profound.
He looked at Astria with a terrifying calmness, his eyes filled with a strange, hollow indifference.
"You won't believe my words anyway," Len said in a flat, even tone.
His words were few, but they carried a bitter truth that caused Astria's next question to freeze upon her lips.
The air within the private chambers grew heavy, as if the very walls were leaning in to catch the unspoken secrets vibrating in the silence.
Astria closed her eyes and took a long, labored breath, visibly anchoring the tempest of frustration and uncertainty swirling within her chest.
When she finally lifted her lashes, the regal hardness had dissolved into a weary sort of surrender.
She clasped her hands gently in her lap, the subtle rustle of her silk gown echoing through the quiet like a faint, mourning sigh.
"Fine," Astria said, her voice dropping to a low, solemn register that filled the room like a vow.
"Whatever you tell me... I will accept it. I will believe every word you utter, Len."
She paused for a heartbeat, her gaze anchoring to his features as if trying to peer through the veil of his soul.
"But I will not hear a lie. Not a single word of it." Len slowly placed the leather-bound tome onto the velvet edge of the sofa.
His small hands were now empty, and his entire focus shifted toward Astria. He felt the gravity in her tone; he heard the heavy price of the promise she had just made.
The indifference that had masked his face was replaced by a look of profound calculation.
As if he were weighing whether her trust was a bridge he was ready to cross. "Fine," Len replied concisely.
His tone was as flat as the surface of an ancient, still lake—devoid of ripples, devoid of emotion.
Astria took another step forward, her shadow stretching long across the intricate patterns of the Persian rug.
She lowered her voice until it was a mere whisper, a fragile lure meant to coax a shy creature from its den.
"Len... do you truly remember nothing?" There was a hidden desperation in her throat, a question that had been gnawing at her since the first light of dawn.
"When did you leave this room? When did you cross the threshold of these guarded walls?"
In the dim light of the chamber, Len lowered his gaze, as if trying to gather the scattered fragments of his memory.
He interlaced his small fingers and then looked at Astria with such pure innocence.
His voice carried the simplicity of a little child, merely recounting the world as he had seen it.
"When my eyes opened, everything was so quiet," Len began softly. "I got out of bed and went to the window."
"It was very dark outside, but so many stars were shining in the sky. They looked so beautiful in the night that I just kept watching them."
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if seeing those stars once again. "After that... after that, I don't remember when I went outside."
*
Len shook his head with great simplicity. "I only remember that tiny village I passed through. No one was there; the streets were completely empty."
*
"By then, the sun had come up and it was quite bright." A faint glow appeared on Len's face, as if he were thinking of something very dear.
*
"I walked a little further from the village and saw such beautiful, colorful flowers. They were so lovely that I felt like going near them."
"Just watching those flowers, I wandered inside the forest. And then..." He trailed off, adding with a bit of wonder, "I saw those soldiers there."
"The ones I just came back with. That's all I remember." There was no cunning in his words.
Only the innocence of a lost child who had drifted away into a world of stars and flowers.
Len's innocent voice still drifted in the cool air of the chamber. Astria lowered her lashes.
As if weighing the deeper truth hidden behind the tale of stars and flowers. She took a long, burdened breath, causing her royal necklace to glimmer faintly.
She interlaced her fingers tightly. "So, you are saying you truly don't remember when or how you left this room?"
Astria repeated softly, her tone a mix of strange helplessness and quiet acceptance.
She drew another deep breath, as if shifting a heavy weight from her chest. "Fine... we will not speak of this anymore."
Astria leaned down, peering into Len's small eyes, her voice now turning as firm as a royal decree.
"But remember this one thing. From this day forth, you will never go out alone at night. Never."
Upon hearing this restriction, Len jerked his face away. A scowl appeared on his small face, and he puckered his lips in annoyance.
He offered no verbal response, instead anchoring his gaze to a shadow in the corner of the room, clearly displeased with this new boundary.
Astria sensed his silence but did not waver. She stepped closer and placed a hand on Len's shoulder.
"And as we discussed yesterday," Astria continued, her voice now carrying the weight of future concerns.
"From today, you must stay with my Uncle. Whatever he teaches you, you must learn."
"He is the most experienced vampire in the palace, and his knowledge will now be your shield."
Len turned his neck and looked into Astria's eyes. His annoyance had shifted into a sober understanding.
He nodded his head with great simplicity. "Yes, I remember," Len replied concisely.
There was an acceptance in his words, as if he knew that this new path was now unavoidable.