"Draven is not your real family."
The words echoed through the silent room like a stone shattering glass.
Alden blinked once.
He didn't have any visible reaction.
Just silence.
A long, thoughtful pause.
His mind was anything but silent.
What does she mean by that?
He felt like the world had tilted sideways. A strange stillness filled his chest, too quiet to be calm—it was more like the eye of a storm.
His voice came out low. "What do you mean?"
He didn't know if the echo – the projection of his mother – heard him or if she anticipated such a question… but she responded.
Her voice carried warmth.
"I'm sorry," she said. "But there was no other way."
Alden stared at the figure.
Caera didn't say anything. She didn't even know what they were talking about.
The projection continued. "Alden. You were never Alaric's child."
Alden's fingers twitched at the revelation.
Still, he stayed silent. He let her continue.
