Ren’s gaze remained steady, unwavering, as Fretia’s eyes flickered between him and her daughter. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she nodded, though the unease had not yet left her face.

“Very well,” she said, her voice resigned but not broken. “I will do as you ask. I will help you find the nobles who will support you. But, Ren... if this fails, if it all falls apart, you will not only lose the throne—you will lose any hope of rebuilding Aropia’s trust.”

“I understand,” Ren said, his expression softening.

Fretia’s shoulders sagged, and she looked to Hazel, who smiled reassuringly, a silent promise of solidarity.

It was a risk, a leap into the unknown, but for the first time in years, Fretia saw the glimmer of a future that might be worth the sacrifice.

As the conversation settled, Hazel leaned back in her seat, a playful glint in her eyes. Her gaze drifted from Ren to her mother, and she paused for a moment before speaking, a smile curling at the edges of her lips.

“Ren,” she said, her tone light and almost teasing, “there’s something else I’d like to ask.”

Ren, still absorbing the weight of their earlier discussion, raised an eyebrow, sensing the shift in her demeanor.

“What is it?” he asked, a hint of wariness in his voice.

Hazel hesitated, her smile growing a fraction wider. “I think it might be best if Mother spends some time in the south,” she said casually, as if the idea had only just come to her. “With the new senate setup, there’s little need for her here in the capital for now.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed slightly, not missing the sudden sparkle of mischief in his wife’s expression.

“Why the south?” he asked, a touch of suspicion coloring his tone.

“Trust me, Ren,” Hazel said, tilting her head in that familiar, almost disarming way she often used when she was about to get what she wanted. “It’s just a feeling. Besides, the southern region is quiet now, and I think it would be good for her to see how things are progressing there.”

Fretia’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, and she cast a sideways glance at Hazel, suddenly understanding her daughter’s intent. The truth of it warmed her heart, though it embarrassed her to the core. Her hands folded in her lap, and she forced herself to look down, hiding the shy smile that threatened to show.

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Ren studied Hazel’s face, sensing there was something she wasn’t saying.

Hazel only smiled more brightly, leaning forward to rest her hand on his arm, her eyes shining with that unspoken affection that made it hard for him to refuse.

“Just trust me on this,” she said, her voice a blend of sincerity and playful manipulation.

“Sometimes a wife has her reasons, and it’s best if her husband doesn’t ask too many questions.Wouldn’t you agree?”

Ren’s lips twitched, caught off guard by her gentle teasing, and he let out a resigned sigh.

“You’re impossible when you’re like this,” he muttered, though there was no real frustration in his tone. He could sense there was something more behind her request, but Hazel’s gaze held no malice, only a quiet insistence.

Fretia’s heart pounded in her chest, and she cleared her throat, attempting to regain some composure. “If Hazel thinks it’s best, then... perhaps I should go,” she said softly, trying to sound impartial, though a slight quaver betrayed her nervousness.

Ren turned his gaze to Fretia, noting the faint color in her cheeks and the way she avoided his eyes.

A moment of realization crossed his features—he might have been a blunt tool in matters of emotions and the heart , but it was clear this was about more than just a visit to the south.

Perhaps it had something to do with Magron, the man who had watched over Fretia in her time of need.

“Alright,” Ren said finally, nodding with a small smile of his own. “If Hazel wants you to go south, then so do I. Besides, with the senate formation in place, your work here will be done.”

Hazel’s smile broadened, and she squeezed Ren’s arm in a silent gesture of thanks, her eyes twinkling with satisfaction. “Thank you, Ren,” she said, her voice softening with genuine gratitude. “I knew you’d see reason.”

Fretia looked up then, her eyes meeting Hazel’s with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. She hadn’t asked for this—she’d never expected her daughter to understand, but somehow, Hazel had seen the longing that even she hadn’t fully acknowledged.

“Thank you,” Fretia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze flickered to Ren, a hesitant smile forming. “I... I promise I won’t be away for too long. I just... need a little time, that’s all.”

“Take all the time you need,” Ren replied, his expression softening. “Something tells me that Magron will be happy about this too. Send my regards to him when you get there, he may still be mad at me.”

Fretia’s blush deepened, and she lowered her head, a warmth spreading through her that was both unfamiliar and welcome.

Hazel had given her a chance—a chance to explore something she hadn’t dared to hope for, and she felt a swell of emotion rise within her, gratitude and a strange, new excitement mingling together.

As Ren and Hazel exchanged a quiet, understanding look, Fretia allowed herself a small, hopeful smile. Maybe, just maybe.