Celestia moved first.

She stepped forward toward Aeliana, and the distance between them closed with a natural ease. It was as if it belonged to people who had known each other long enough that formality had become optional.

She embraced her lightly. Not the stiff, ceremonial kind of hug that palaces tended to produce, it was brief genuine and warm, one hand resting at Aeliana’s shoulder for just a moment before both women drew back.

"It’s good to see you again," Celestia said.

Her voice was low and smooth. The voice that didn’t need to rise to be heard.

Aeliana’s expression, which rarely shifted from its composed default, softened by a small but visible degree.

"And you," she replied. "You look well."

"I always do, sister"

There was no arrogance in it. Just a simple, quiet fact stated by someone who had long since stopped pretending.

From the side, Callius stepped forward with considerably less formality.

"Big Sister." He said it easily, with a grin that sat comfortably on his face, the grin of a man who had grown up as the younger sibling and had made peace with what that meant.

He was somewhere in his late thirties, handsome in an open, uncomplicated way, with the same blue eyes that ran through the family and dark hair that had just begun to show the first traces of silver at the temples.

Aeliana turned to him.

For a brief moment something almost warm crossed her expression.

"Callius."

He hugged her properly, one arm around her shoulders, the other briefly clasping her hand. Aeliana allowed it with the tolerant ease.

Behind him, his wife stepped forward with a pleasant smile.

Her name was Sabrina. A soft-spoken woman with warm brown eyes and light auburn hair pinned neatly at her nape, dressed in the muted rose gown that suited her gentle coloring well.

She greeted Aeliana with a respectful incline of her head and a warmth that seemed entirely genuine.

"It’s wonderful to see you, Your Grace."

"Likewise, Sabrina. Good to see hou doing well."

And then the children.

The boy, Evan, who was six, had been staring at Arista’s red ponytail since approximately the moment they had walked through the door.

Now that the adults were greeting each other and his presence was less supervised, he took two steps forward with the bold, unself-conscious confidence that belongs exclusively to small boys who have not yet learned much.

"Your hair is red," he announced.

Arista looked down at him. Then she crouched slightly so they were closer to the same level.

"It is," she agreed, completely seriously.

Evan considered this. "I like it."

"Good." The corner of her mouth curved. "So do I. By the way you grown up a lot. I saw your three years ago. I guess you might not remember me."

"Well unlike you I met them a lot. They do know me better." Liana said with teasing smile.

The girl, Mira, who was five, had not moved from her mother’s side. She had neck length auburn hair.

She watched everything from that position with large, careful eyes taking in each new face slowly, still deciding what she thought.

When Liana glanced down at her with an expression that was, for Liana, remarkably gentle, Mira studied her for a long moment before offering a very small, very solemn nod.

"Good to see you big sister."

"Oh~ so you remember me. Such a good girl."

Mira smile shyly.

Liana nodded back with equal solemnity.

Something about that seemed to satisfy Mira entirely.

Arista and Liana moved through the greetings naturally, talking easily with Callius, exchanging brief pleasantries with Sabrina, falling into the comfortable familiarity of people who had met before and remembered each other fondly enough.

Azael stood slightly behind them.

He was quiet.

Not from rudeness but from a particular kind of stillness that comes when a person genuinely does not know where to position themselves in a room.

’Fuck! I only have heard about them and never met them before.’

These people had history with each other. Years of it. Letters, visits, shared dinners, old jokes, the accumulated texture of family connection built over time.

He had none of that.

His old self, the Azael who had existed before had never met any of them. Not once. And from what he understood, that absence hadn’t been accidental.

No one from the imperial family had sought him out. No invitation had arrived for him specifically. He had existed, as far as they were concerned, somewhere at the edge of the picture, acknowledged but not looked at directly.

It was more like from both side. Neither Azael had any wish to meet them nor they do.

He didn’t carry resentment about it. Not right now, standing here. It was simply the truth of the situation, and the truth of it meant he had no foundation to stand on in this room except the one he built himself in the next few minutes.

So when there was a natural pause in the greetings. He took brief breath of space between conversations then Azael stepped forward.

He bowed.

Clean, proper, the right depth for the setting.

"It’s an honor to be here," he said. His voice was calm. "Thank you for receiving me."

Callius looked at him with a friendly expression. Sabrina smiled. The children paid him approximately no attention, which was fine.

While princess didn’t pay much attention to him.

But Prince Lucas looked at him gently like others.

And then Celestia looked at him.

She had been standing slightly apart from the others during the exchange. Present, attentive.

An observer who had the luxury of observing because the room naturally organized itself around her without her needing to ask it to.

Now her crystal blue gaze settled on Azael directly.

She studied him for a moment. Unhurried. The way someone looks at a thing they are genuinely trying to read.

"So you are Azael."

It wasn’t a question.Her voice carrying that particular quality of command that didn’t soften itself to put people at ease. It simply was what it was, and expected the person on the receiving end to manage accordingly.

"Sebastian’s son."

A brief pause.

"You have his eyes," she said. "The same color."

Sebastian Ignivar. His father. A man Azael carried the memory of like something half-formed.

Azael met her gaze steadily.

"So I’ve been told," he said.

He inclined his head once more.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Celestia held his gaze for one moment longer. Something moved behind those ocean-blue eyes not quite recognition, not quite judgment. Something more neutral than either. The look of a person filing information away carefully.

Then she looked away, and the moment passed as cleanly as it had arrived.

---

"Come," Celestia said, turning toward the inner corridor. "We’ll talk inside. Properly."

She moved without looking back, which was all the invitation anyone needed.

The group fell into motion behind her — Aeliana at the front, the others arranging themselves naturally as the corridor opened up ahead of them. Palace attendants appeared at the edges of the hall and fell into step at a discreet distance, silent and efficient.

The inner corridors of the palace were quieter than the entrance hall, but no less impressive.

The ceilings were lower here still high by any reasonable standard, but more intimate. The walls were lined with tall framed paintings, landscapes and portraits in heavy gilded frames, the colors in them deep and well-preserved.

Narrow windows between the frames let in thin lines of daylight. The floors shifted from pale stone to dark polished wood that absorbed sound and gave their footsteps a softer, closer quality.

Arista walked beside Azael again.

"You handled that well," she said under her breath. A quite whisper

Azael glanced at her. "I bowed and said six words."

"Exactly." She kept her eyes forward. "With her, that’s the right move. Good boy, my brother."

He didn’t ask her to elaborate. He filed it away instead.

His eyes landed on the hips of the woman walking in front. Celestia. Her hips swayed gentle, drawing his attention.

’My bad mind. Why am I so horny!!’ He tried his best to not look

The room they were led into was a large sitting parlor. The space designed for exactly this sort of gathering.

Long sofas arranged in a wide, open shape, a low table at the center bearing tea service already laid out with quiet efficiency.

More windows here, wider ones, looking out over a section of the palace gardens where clipped hedges and stone pathways extended in careful geometric patterns.

The light in this room was soft and even. Comfortable.

Celestia settled into the chair at the head of the arrangement not a throne, nothing so formal, but the positioning made its own quiet point.

Her round ass beneath the gown pressed against her sit.

Her breasts actually jiggle slightly. And they couldn’t get out if Azael’s sight.

’Hah...heavens!!’ He thought.

Aeliana sat across from her with the ease of someone who had occupied this kind of room before. Liana and Arista took seats beside her.

Callius dropped into the sofa on Celestia’s side with familiar ease, Sabrina beside him, Mira immediately climbing into her mother’s lap and Evan sitting next to his father with his legs swinging slightly above the floor.

Azael took a seat at the edge of the arrangement.

A part of the group but giving himself enough space to observe before he participated.

Tea was poured without anyone asking.

The quiet clatter of cups settling into saucers filled the brief pause.

Then Celestia looked around the room with that same steady. Taking in each face in turn with the calm attention.