The sky above the eastern training grounds had darkened further, cloaked in an elegant velvet of deep indigo, punctuated by the pale shimmer of the moon—**Uranos**, watching silently.
The duel was over. The tension had not left.
*Naoko * stood with her back turned, her figure regal, hair like flowing silver drawn under the moonlight's mercy. But just as she began to walk away, she stopped. The echo of her heeled boots ceased.
She turned her head slightly, just enough for one gleaming silver eye to catch Amelia's golden ones.
Then she spoke. Slowly. Coldly.
"Don't play the doting mother now, Amelia. It doesn't suit you."
Her words slid like silk across a dagger's edge.
**"You've always been prepared to sacrifice your daughter for the name 'Amberhart'. If she had lost that mock duel to the Frost heir—your precious rival—what would you have done?"**
She turned to face her fully now.
**"Thrown her into a volcano? Locked her in one of your family's infamous flame chambers? Pressed her until she bled for your cursed White Flame?"**
Amelia's expression darkened. Her mouth opened to speak, but Naoko raised a hand.
**"Don't answer. We both know the truth. You don't nurture. You forge."**
A beat.
Then—quiet, composed, lethal:
**"And the cruelest part?"** she leaned in slightly, voice almost a whisper, **"You can't even master that flame yourself. So why chain her to a path you couldn't conquer?"**
Amelia's fists clenched at her sides, her crimson hair dancing again in the wind, as if burning with her anger.
Naoko straightened, her silver gaze steady.
**"Once she becomes the wife of my son, her path changes. It will no longer be yours to dictate. It becomes my responsibility to ensure her strength. And I…"**
She smiled faintly, but it held no warmth.
**"I will give her a flame that can rival your family's legend."**
A pause.
**"One that obeys. One that consumes without remorse."**
Amelia stepped forward now, voice low but burning:
**"You're speaking of your cursed Lunar Flames. That unnatural cold. That divine desecration you call power."**
Naoko didn't blink.
**"I call it survival."**
The two women now stood only a few steps apart—one wrapped in **white fire**, the other cloaked in **silver dusk**. Old wounds flickered behind their eyes, unsaid stories hanging between them.
Amelia's voice broke the stillness.
**"You think you know her better than I do? She's still a girl. Sensitive. Proud. She tries hard not because I command it—"**
Naoko cut in.
**"—But because she fears you."**
The words landed like a blade across Amelia's heart.
Naoko's voice dropped further, a merciless softness:
**"Do you even know what her flame smells like when she cries at night?"**
Amelia faltered. Her breath caught for a moment—but she recovered, snapping back with an icy glare.
**"Better fear than weakness."**
Naoko didn't flinch.
**"Spoken like a true Amberhart."**
Amelia's voice turned sharper.
**"And what are you, Naoko? You speak of training and survival, but your own son—he's a weapon with no leash. Tell me, is that your pride or your failure?"**
For the first time, something flickered in Naoko's eyes. A brief glint of crimson behind the silver. Not rage. Not sorrow. Something more ancient.
She tilted her head.
**"He is exactly what this world needs: a sword that chooses its wielder. A storm that bows to no god. Unlike you, I never asked him to be perfect. I asked him to win."**
Amelia's voice grew quieter now, more personal.
**"You killed your husband. You keep your son caged in that obsidian palace. You smile with ice in your veins, and you talk to me about care?"**
Naoko's reply came like frost:
**"Love is weakness."**
A pause.
**"You of all people should know that, Amelia. After all, wasn't it your love for your sister that cost you the eastern citadel?"**
Amelia's jaw tensed, a flicker of pain crossing her face before she masked it.
Naoko leaned in again, barely above a whisper:
**"We're both monsters. I just stopped pretending otherwise."**
The wind howled between them then. For a moment, the world shrank to the silver of Naoko's stare and the burning gold in Amelia's.
Neither moved.
Neither blinked.
Finally, it was Amelia who looked away. Only slightly.
**"She will not become yours. You can polish her, test her, throw her into the dark. But her soul is mine. I raised her."**
Naoko's voice was softer now. Almost reflective.
**"You built a flame. I will teach it to burn."**
Then she turned once more—this time for good—and began to walk toward Jin, who stood in the distance with his hands in his pockets, still watching the stars.
Amelia remained standing, her heart roaring beneath her composed face.
As Naoko's silhouette vanished into the night shadows, Amelia whispered to herself:
**"She won't become like you, Naoko. Even if she burns."**