Awkward silence filled Verona's chambers, Three chairs, crafted entirely of shimmering ice, materialized around a small, ornately carved table. Valeriana perched on the edge of hers, her gaze fixed on Neveah with an intensity.
"Um… Um… Cough…" Valeriana cleared her throat, her voice barely a whisper. "I wanted to speak to you… I…" She faltered, her words catching in her throat.
Neveah, his face a mask of stoicism, kept his gaze trained on her. The silence stretched on, filled with unspoken emotions and a growing sense of unease. Finally, with a sigh of exasperation, Verona intervened.
"Hahh! This is getting annoying," she declared, her violet eyes flashing with irritation. "Neveah, she's your birth mother! I don't know why you're so nervous to tell him. You're an Empress, sheesh!"
Valeriana flinched at Verona's bluntness, a flicker of shame crossing her features. Empress or not, facing her son after years of neglect felt like an insurmountable task.
