Chapter 83: suspicious birth

Chapter 83: Chapter 83: suspicious birth

Amelia’s voice came out thin.

"I have no idea what you’re spouting right now. Can you kindly just... give me some space?"

Enzo didn’t move.

He valued his own personal space more than most people valued oxygen. Yet right now the opposite urge sat stubbornly in his chest—he wanted her inside that space, for as long as he decided.

His gaze dropped to her eyes that he has began to start taking note of. Those purple irises weren’t dull in the slightest. They held a depth that could have been dangerous if he allowed himself less discipline.

The door opened without warning.

Skye stepped in, then froze mid-stride at the sight of them—Amelia backed against the wall, Enzo still far too close.

Only then did Enzo step away. Amelia exhaled, quiet gratitude flooding through her even though Skye hadn’t actually done anything except appear at the right second.

Enzo’s expression smoothed back into something colder. "I’ll return with the pills."

He turned and walked toward the door. Skye dipped her head in a respectful greeting as he passed. He acknowledged it with a brief nod and left.

The door clicked shut.

Skye looked at Amelia, one eyebrow slowly rising.

"Was I interrupting a special moment?"

"Not at all."

Skye’s eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. "Then why do you look so flustered?"

Amelia shot her a sharp look as she finished adjusting her clothes.

"Why wouldn’t I be? I was this close to getting tortured or something equally unpleasant."

Skye’s mouth curved. "You mean tortured... or thoroughly ruined against that wall until you forgot how to stand?"

"Stop. That’s not funny."

"Whatever." Skye shrugged, already moving on. "Madame wants you to eat with her this evening. No need for anything seductive—the men won’t be joining."

Amelia gave a dry, pointed reply as she headed for the door.

"What a tragedy. I was just about to dig out my most scandalous nightgown for a quiet dinner with my future mother-in-law."

She left without waiting for a response.

Skye lingered, glancing around the room until her gaze landed on Swifty. The silver bird stared back with unmistakable judgment.

"You’re such a pain," Skye muttered.

Swifty answered with a short, dismissive sound that made it very clear the feeling was mutual.

Downstairs, the long dining table was already set. Madame sat at the near end and gestured to the chair beside her the moment Amelia entered.

"Sit."

Amelia obeyed. Food was placed in front of her almost immediately.

Madame studied her for a moment. "How are you feeling now?"

"I’m good."

"I wanted to ask," Madame continued lightly, "what do you plan to do after you finish college?"

Amelia paused with her fork halfway to her plate. "Before... I thought I would become a Luna, and we all saw how that turned out. Now I honestly don’t know."

Madame gave a small, understanding nod. "I wouldn’t want you to stress yourself over it. The choice is yours, as long as it doesn’t harm your health."

She looked down at her own plate for a moment, the atmosphere shifting. "There have been issues lately. If not for my insistence, my sons would already be on the front lines of every conflict and wars. I can’t hold them back forever."

When she lifted her gaze again, it gave a clear purpose. "Which is why I would like you to give me grandchildren."

Amelia choked on her food. She grabbed the water glass and forced the mouthful down, eyes watering.

"Isn’t that... a little soon?"

"After you finish school, of course," Madame replied calmly. "Which, from what I checked, is only two months away for you. The men have six months left before they are ordered back to the main Moonfist forces. That gives you more than enough time to become pregnant before they leave."

Amelia’s voice came out strained. "I haven’t thought about that at all."

"Why not? Don’t you like my sons?"

"I do," Amelia managed, "but wouldn’t they also have to agree?"

Madame’s expression turned quietly proud. "They already have. They don’t really have a choice in the matter. Only you do."

Amelia set her fork down carefully, choosing her next words with care.

"It’s... a very nice idea. But I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet. Not because of anything bad. I just— I would like to explore some career options first. Or other things. Before I choose to... have kids."

Madame’s face softened into a genuine smile.

"I admire the ambition. Whatever you decide to pursue, I’ll help you with what you need. You are my daughter now, after all."

The heavier subject eased after that. Conversation drifted into lighter territory—ordinary women’s talk, a few shared laughs that felt surprisingly easy. Amelia found herself relaxing more when she kept talking to her. Madame’s presence carried none of the sharp edges her sons possessed.

Then Madame’s tone shifted again. "I’ve actually been looking into your origins. Your biological parents."

Amelia looked up, startled.

"You have?"

"Your powers are still unstable," Madame explained. "If we can find someone who shares a similar gift, they might be able to train you properly."

Amelia’s fingers tightened slightly around her glass. "I’m not even sure I’d want to meet them if they were found."

Madame reached and rested a steady hand over hers.

"There could be any number of reasons you ended up in that orphanage. But if it turns out your parents were actual pricks who dumped a child and walked away without a second thought—" her eyes narrowed with theatrical menace, "—I will personally make sure they regret every life decision that led them to that point."

Amelia let out a short sigh.

"Have you found anything?"

Madame’s expression grew more serious.

"Not really. But it’s suspicious. The people who found you and took you to the orphanage were all killed. No one seems to remember where you originally came from—or rather, the ones who might have known have a habit of dying shortly afterward. That doesn’t feel like coincidence."

Amelia’s smile faded.

She already knew it wasn’t.