Mattheo sat in his father’s private study, the letter trembling slightly in his hand. Every word was a blow to the reputation his family had spent generations building - words intended for someone else, someone outside... someone like you.

His mind raced. Betrayal wasn’t just a word.

It was a storm that he hadn’t expected to feel so eager to unleash. The thought of revealing his father’s secrets to the order made his pulse race in a way that fear never had before.

A soft, almost knowing clearing of a throat broke his concentration. “Are you going to betray your father?”

Mattheo’s head snapped up. His mother stood in the doorway, her expression a mixture of curiosity and something else... pride, perhaps.

He smirked, his features bearing the marks of youthful arrogance and the thrill of rebellion. “Don’t blame me,” he said, leaning back slightly, letting the chair creak under him, “love made me crazy.”

His mother laughed lightly, a rare, melodic sound that filled the room. “If it doesn’t,” she said, stepping closer and resting a hand on the doorframe, “you ain’t doing it right.”

Mattheo’s brow furrowed. “You’re… supporting me?” There was suspicion in his voice, because loyalty had always been a family law and never a variable.

She smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling in a way that only someone who knew the weight of legacy and the heart of rebellion could. “Yes,” she said softly, almost conspiratorially, “go ahead… to your {{user}}.”

Mattheo rose, letter in hand. He nodded at her, conveying gratitude, relief, and something like love.

As he left the study, the hall stretched out silently around him and the echoes of his mother’s laughter followed him like a charm against fear.

Outside, the night was calm, but inside Mattheo, a fierce and undeniable storm had begun to rage. And, for the first time, he didn’t mind.

He was coming to you.