"Your wounds are almost healed, but the one on your cheek is still taking a bit ti," Harriet said gently. She moved with precision, carefully smoothing the dical tape over a small patch of cotton to secure the dressing.
Katelyn peered into the hand mirror. "It won’t leave a scar behind, right?" she asked.
"No, it won’t," Harriet reassured her, offering a comforting smile. "The skin is regenerating well. However, I would recomnd you visit the hospital once, just to have a specialist look at the deeper tissue."
Mabel, who had been watching from the armchair with a protective gaze, shook her head slightly. "At the mont, we aren’t stepping out of the palace. It’s too dangerous," she explained. "I will have a dermatologist brought here to consult regarding the mark. We won’t take any risks."
"That is a wonderful idea, Your Majesty," Harriet agreed, knowing better than to argue with a Queen’s instinct for safety. She began packing her instrunts into her bag. After bowing deeply to both won, she made her exit.
"Co here, darling. I’ll dry your hair for you," Mabel said, already reaching for a plush towel and guiding Katelyn up from the bed.
"Mom, I can do that myself. You don’t have to trouble yourself," Katelyn insisted, reaching for the towel.
"It’s no trouble at all," Mabel whispered. She guided Katelyn to the vanity and eased her into the velvet-cushioned chair.
Standing behind her, she gathered the damp, dark locks and pressed them gently between the folds of the fabric, absorbing the moisture.
"Mom... Brother Gabriel ca to see yesterday," Katelyn began, her gaze fixed on her own reflection. "He apologized to . For everything. For the way he’s treated in the past."
Mabel’s hands stilled for a fraction of a second, her eyes eting Katelyn’s in the mirror. "Did he?" she asked softly, worry crossing her face.
"He did," Katelyn replied. "But it wasn’t just a quick apology. He looked... Devastated, Mom. He looked so upset, like he was carrying the entire bla for what happened to on his own back. I’ve never seen him look that broken before."
Mabel resud her task, but her movents were slower now. "He’s not telling things either to about what he’s thinking. I t him earlier, but he seed to dodge as if he doesn’t want to share anything with ."
Katelyn looked into the eyes of her mother. "Perhaps, you should ask Alie."
"She’s also keeping a quiet about it," Mabel answered.
"Maybe because she doesn’t either want to take stress. I’m sure they both have found the solution. Maybe Brother Gabriel is acting like this so that we won’t take any kind of stress," Katelyn stated with a hopeful gaze.
"Hmm." Mabel gave out a reluctant agreent, but deep down she knew Gabriel was keeping the plans from them intentionally.
~~~~
Gabriel ticulously fastened the last tiny button on Noah’s suit before layering a soft, cable-knit sweater over his small fra. He worked with gentleness, pulling the thick socks over the toddler’s feet.
’The Moon Goddess was right,’ he thought. ’There is no weapon in this realm capable of ending Ophelia without demanding a piece of my soul and a sacrifice in return.’
He had summoned the Bloodsmiths, yet the doubt was beginning to gnaw at him. ’Is it even worth the attempt? I can’t take chances with Ophelia, not when her survival ans the death of everyone I love. But if I wield that blade, the Moon Goddess will cease to exist. The balance will shatter. I don’t want her to disappear... I don’t want a stranger taking her place in the heavens because of my choice.’
"Pa!"
The small, bright syllable cut through Gabriel’s spiraling thoughts like a ray of light. He looked down to see Noah staring up at him with wide, trusting eyes, his little hands reaching for Gabriel’s face.
"Yes, boy?" Gabriel whispered. He forced a small, shaky smile. "Oh, I almost forgot your moisturizer."
He leaned toward the bedside table as he retrieved the baby kit from the drawer. He set it on the bed, applying the cream to Noah’s chubby cheeks. For those few monts, he wasn’t an Alpha Prince; he was just a father caring for his son. Once finished, he tucked the kit back into its place.
"Just use that weapon, Gabriel," Cynthia’s voice reverberated through the bedroom.
Gabriel spun around, his heart hamring against his ribs. Noah who was still lying on the bed smiled seeing the divine woman. His big, curious eyes wanted to grab the pearl necklace that Cynthia had put on.
Gabriel scrambled off the bed. He bowed low, but panic quickly followed the reverence. "What are you doing here? You’re not ant to be seen,," he whispered urgently. He rushed to the bedroom door and locked it from inside.
"I am here because you are wandering onto a wrong and hollow path," Cynthia stated. She didn’t move, yet she seed to fill every corner of the room. "Do not call the Bloodsmiths, Gabriel. Think of the cost. Whose life are you truly prepared to lay upon that altar? Whose sacrifice are you going to give?"
Gabriel opened his mouth to argue, to ntion the "only himself" plan, but Cynthia cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand.
"There is only one way to finish Ophelia without shattering your soul and the balance of the moon," she declared. "I was the one who gave the weapon to your father for a reason. It was forged in my own light, ant for this very darkness. Stop looking for blood and iron. Pick up the blade I provided and end Ophelia with the power that was always ant to be yours. Gabriel, don’t think and do it."
Cynthia walked to her son and brought her hands to his arms. "The Moon Goddess shall balance the nature. I’m doing that only."
"I-I don’t want to lose you. Even if you’re far from , at least, you are there. You ntioned that your punishnt is your cease in existence. So, wielding that weapon also takes a sacrifice," Gabriel argued.
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