Draco clenched his fists, feeling the tension surge through him. Seventeen had borne so much, not just the weight of the prophecy but the unbearable loss of her siblings, their potential, their lives cut short. He had seen glimpses of that pain in her eyes, in the way she carried herself, as if always bracing for the next blow, the next tragedy. But now, knowing the full extent of what she had lost, what she was forced to carry alone, it made him furious.
Furious at the rulers, at his own parents, at the entire damned system that had pushed her to this point.
His gaze shifted to Noah, who stood in the couch, his face painted with the kind of pain he was familiar with, grief. He didn't flinch under their stares. Instead, he met them with an unyielding strength, his posture rigid, his expression cold and unreadable.
But Draco knew better now. It wasn't coldness—it was armor. Armor built to protect his heart that had been shattered and rebuilt too many times. Just like his daughter. She lost siblings, but he lost his children, and as a man born in Ophiuchus, he definitely had a past as tragic as hers.
"I don't understand," Light said, breaking the heavy silence. "Why didn't she tell us this before? Why keep all this hidden from us? We're supposed to be in this together."
His eyes flashed, but he remained silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice steady as he answered Light's question.
"Because the truth is dangerous. My daughter's powers, her connection to the ancient artifact she carries, her past, her losses—it's not something you can just throw into a conversation. And it's not something most of you were ready to hear. She was playing a character that she imagined would best be accepted by you, because she couldn't act as herself, it was too dangerous, there was too much at stake. With all due respect, she also didn't give a shit about manipulating you, given who raised you. One way or another, you weren't ready to know."
Draco wondered how many times she had felt conflicted about how she had grown to feel for them, for him, even though they are the children of those who took everything from her. To know that her truth was too dangerous, that others weren't ready to understand her. It must've felt like a prison—one she had been trapped in for far too long.
"And now we are?" Claus asked, his tone sharp, challenging.
Lilith, the Oracle, spoke up, her voice calm but filled with a weight of finality. "Now, you have no choice. The prophecy is in motion. The forces arrayed against us are growing stronger, and Seventeen's power is the only thing that can turn the tide. But you all have to be united. There can't be any more secrets."
Draco felt a surge of protectiveness rise in him, an overwhelming desire to shield Seventeen from the weight of all these expectations. But he also knew that she didn't need protecting. She was a fighter, a survivor—more capable than any of them. Yet, that didn't stop him from wanting to shoulder some of her burden.
He stepped forward, his voice low but firm. "We're not going to let her carry this alone."
"She has been carrying it alone for years, Draco," Noah said calmly. "If you tell my daughter that, knowing her as well as I do, she will tell you that she doesn't need your pity. That's how she'll see your words."
"It's not pity," Draco shot back, his voice firmer now. "It's understanding. We're supposed to be a team, and that means sharing the load. I don't care how powerful she is—no one can do this alone."
His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Draco thought he would snap back, but instead, he just turned away, staring at the ceiling. The silence stretched, tense and thick, until Noah spoke again.
"Seventeen's path has been a lonely one," he said quietly, meeting their gazes again. "But as I said, she's carried this burden long before any of you knew about the prophecy. It's up to you now—whether you can truly work together or let the Kingdom and your parents tear you apart. And I guarantee you, your parents are not the saints some of you may take them for. They are vile. Don't think they wouldn't murder all of you if it meant not having any threat to their power."
Amelia, who had been quiet until now, stepped forward. Her green eyes softened as she looked at Noah, her voice gentle but determined. "We're not asking her to trust us completely, Mr. Whitlock. We haven't earned that yet. But we're here. And we're not going anywhere. We just want to find a way to let her know that, especially now that we... we know more about what she has against us."
Draco watched as Noah's shoulders tensed, he could see how much she struggled with this—with letting anyone in, with sharing even a fraction of what he carried, for him and his only daughter alive. After losing six of his seven children to their parents, Draco imagined he would be over protective of his child. But Amelia's words seemed to get through, if only a little.
For a long moment, he said nothing. The crackling of the flames on the sides of the room was the only sound, and Draco could feel the tension in the room like a living thing. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice quieter.
"I don't think my daughter knows how to trust anymore," he admitted, his gaze still fixed on a place far away. "Every time she lets someone in, it's cost her everything. Her siblings, her life, her identity… she don't know how to be anything other than what she am now. She's even closed off with us, she used to be brighter, still brooding but brighter. All that light vanished with the loss of the kids. You will have to do some work to build something solid."
Noah's expression softened, and even Lilith's usually sharp gaze seemed to hold a flicker of understanding. Draco felt a lump rise in his throat. Seventeen wasn't just a warrior, a force of nature—she was broken in ways none of them had even begun to understand. But he wanted them to be the ones to mend them.
And they would. He would.
"Then we'll figure it out together," Draco said, his voice low but firm. "We're not going to abandon her, Noah. Not now, not ever."
"We'll get through this," Light said quietly, stepping beside Draco. "All of us. Together."
Noah didn't reply for a while, but Draco could see the slightest nod of his head. His eyes moving from one of them to the next. "The road ahead won't be easy. The Kingdom will stop at nothing to destroy you, to destroy everything we stand for. But you're not alone anymore. You have each other."
Draco smiled softly, his heart swelling with compassion for her, even though he knew she would probably never accept it from him. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that they were moving forward, that they were finally starting to come together.
Because they had to. There was no other choice.
And whether Seventeen realized it or not, they were going to make sure she never had to carry this weight alone again.
["I'll prove this to her. Not solely with words, but with actions."]