Celestial Emperor of Shadow

A Mother Draws Her Line

"Wait," Anna said softly, lifting her hand—not to silence him, but to calm the space between them, as if her touch alone could steady a storm. "Before you say anything… I have something to tell you first."

Victor stopped breathing for a heartbeat.

The room stayed the same, warm and quiet, but something inside him shifted sharply. A small knot of worry twisted tighter beneath his ribs. He studied her face, searching for a clue—for warmth, for reassurance, for anything that might tell him what direction this moment was about to take.

He found nothing.

Anna's expression held steady, calm yet impossible to read, like she'd shut every emotion behind a door she wasn't ready to open.

"…What is it, Mother?" he asked at last, his voice low, careful, almost afraid of the answer waiting on her tongue.

Anna looked at him with that unwavering, all-consuming motherly stare—warm at first, almost glowing—until something in her gaze shifted. The softness drained away little by little, replaced by a focused sharpness that made the air feel tighter around them. Victor didn't even realize he was straightening in his seat, his spine pulled upright by instinct alone.

The room seemed to quiet itself as her expression changed. No anger. No disappointment. Just a serious, grounded weight that only a mother who'd lived through too much could carry so effortlessly.

"Son," she said, her voice steady, smooth, but wrapped around a core of iron. "I love you more than anything in this world."

The words were gentle, yet they landed with a gravity that hit him right in the chest.

Victor blinked, thrown for a moment by the sudden shift in her tone—so warm, so fierce, so utterly focused on him that it almost felt overwhelming.

But she wasn't done.

"If you asked me to the cripple your father and make you king right this moment, I would."

Ben choked.

"If you wanted to any woman in this kingdom or beyond, I would to beg her—or her family—on my knees for you."

Ben stared at her like she'd lost her mind.

"If you wanted the entire Lionheart Kingdom placed in your hands, I would deliver it without a second thought."

Victor's mouth parted slightly.

Ben's did too—but for a very different reason.

Anna leaned closer, her voice dropping into a tone so certain it cut the air clean.

"But, my son… I will never—not in this lifetime, not in any—agree to your request to participate in the winter competition."

Silence that detonated through the room.

Victor stared at her, stunned.

Ben stared at her with horrified look.

Anna didn't look away.

Not even for a blink.

Victor's pulse thudded in his ears. She knew. She knew exactly what he was going to ask.

He dragged his gaze to his father.

Ben looked at him with a sort of wide-eyed, semi-traumatized expression that said clearly:

Don't look at me—your mother is terrifying.

Victor's stare deepened.

Ben flinched.

"W-What?" Ben snapped under the pressure. "Don't look at me like that! I didn't do anything wrong!"

Victor didn't need words. His eyes said everything:

You told her.

Ben raised both his hands defensively. "I don't have a death wish, alright?! If she discovered it later, she'd kill me before I could explain!"

Anna, without even shifting attention, waved dismissively. "Ignore whatever your father is mumbling."

Ben actually looked offended. "I can hear you."

She ignored him harder.

Victor finally found his voice.

"Mother… you—how did you even know what I was going to say?"

Anna exhaled softly, her expression smoothing, but her seriousness didn't fade.

"I know my son. Your heartbeat gave you away the moment you walked inside."

Victor felt heat creep up his neck.

Of course she noticed. She always noticed.

But her rejection—absolute and final—sat heavy.

He looked down for a breath, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through him.

He had lived without anyone to forbid him before.

On Earth, he made decisions freely.

He loved freely.

He fell, rose, chased anything that stirred desire in his chest.

Now… he had a mother.

A real mother who cared enough to block him.

Not out of control.

Not out of authority.

But out of fear.

For him.

And that feeling—being held back because someone loved him—hit deeper than he expected.

Ben watched his son's expression soften into something almost… pained.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead.

Anna leaned forward, her voice gentle—yet iron.

"Victor, leave this topic. Tell me what else you wanted."

Victor's throat tightened.

She was avoiding the subject deliberately.

He could feel it—her worry, her stubbornness, her fierce protectiveness.

She wasn't angry.

She wasn't lecturing.

She was afraid for him.

He swallowed hard.

She watched every twitch of his face, waiting, motherly concern threading around her tone again.

"Son?" she pressed softly.

Victor inhaled deeply.

If not now, then never.

He straightened and reached out.

His fingers closed around her hand.

Anna froze for a heartbeat, air caught in her chest. Her eyes widened just a little, the kind of subtle reaction only a mother trying to stay composed would show. Her son had touched her before, of course—but never like this. Never with a grip that carried weight, purpose, something almost trembling underneath.

She slowly turned toward him, giving him her full attention, as if the world outside that moment no longer existed.

"Mother," he said, each word slow and deliberate, "listen to me first."

The shift in her was instant. Her posture softened, but her focus sharpened. Every piece of her—heart, breath, thought—centered on him.

"Yes, son," she whispered, voice warm and steady. "Always. Tell me anything you want me to hear."

Victor drew in a breath, deeper this time, as if steadying himself against something heavy pressing on his chest. His fingers tightened around her hand. His throat worked once, a small swallow of nerves and certainty tangled together.

And the chapter ends right there—right as the truth hangs at the edge of his lips.