[: 3rd POV :]

"Academy?"

*You mean the Apex Academy founded by our ancestor, Diana Valenhardt?"

Daniel asked, raising a brow, his voice mixing curiosity with a hint of disbelief.

Melira’s lips curved into a soft smile.

"It wouldn’t be strange for you not to have heard of it before, my son"

"But yes, it is the very same academy built by our ancestor."

She reached over and pinched his cheek playfully.

"And swallow before you speak, young man. Royals aren’t supposed to talk with their mouths full."

Daniel gave a muffled laugh, cheeks still puffed.

"Royal or not, food tastes better when you talk about it."

Melira chuckled, shaking her head.

"You sound just like your grandfather when he was alive."

That silenced Daniel for a moment, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

"Grandfather? I have grandfather?"

"What makes you think you don’t have?" She laughed at his reaction.

"Well, I never see him..."

"You have a family my dear son, it’s just that currently, it’s not at the right timing" Melira said without explaining further.

Daniel wanted to question further, but judging from the situation, he didn’t want to dwelve it further.

’In the end, I will meet them someday or maybe I can ask the system later on’

’I never thought of my father and I wonder where he is?’ He wondered.

"Going back at the topic," she continued.

"It wasn’t just our ancestor. The first rulers of the other continents lent their hands to build it too"

"The Apex Academy was meant to unify the future of every continent, where talents would be nurtured without bias of blood or kingdom."

Daniel leaned back in his seat, intrigued.

"So basically, it’s a big school full of geniuses and heirs."

"You could say that," she smiled.

"Normally, children attend at the age of twelve after awakening their power"

"But that rule changed recently"

"Now, the academy accepts children as young as seven."

"Seven?" Daniel blinked.

"That’s... rather early."

"Indeed. But the purpose is to prepare them before awakening, physically, mentally, and spiritually"

"To forge not only power, but character."

Melira’s tone softened.

"But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Daniel tilted his head.

Her fingers lightly brushed the rim of her teacup.

"Because of your age, by right, you should already be a senior at the Academy"

"However..." she exhaled, smiling faintly, "since you’ve yet to attend, I personally requested from the ’Dean’ herself that you’ll be enrolled in the First Year, as a Senior."

Daniel blinked.

"A... First-Year Senior?"

"Yes," she nodded, smiling, though her eyes glimmered faintly with melancholy.

"I’m fine with that," Daniel said, tilting his head slightly.

"But... why do you sound so sad, Mother?"

Her smile faltered for a brief moment.

"Because, my son, I have just gotten you back... and already, I have to let you go again."

The playful atmosphere dimmed as silence settled between them.

She looked down, her fingers tightening slightly.

"Sixteen years, Daniel. Sixteen years of not seeing you grow up, of not hearing you laugh, of not knowing if you were alive or..."

Her voice trailed off, trembling faintly.

Daniel reached across the table and gently placed his hand on hers.

"Mother... I’m here now."

"I know." She squeezed his hand in return.

"But I can’t help but wish I could keep you close a little longer."

Daniel smiled faintly.

"Then there’s no need for me to attend the Academy."

Melira looked up in surprise.

"You’d refuse? But—"

"I’m not refusing education," Daniel interrupted softly.

"I just think my mother deserves her son a little longer."

That answer made her heart ache in the best way possible.

She smiled warmly, though her voice carried a trace of guilt.

"Oh, my dear, how I wish that could happen... But as much as I hate to say it, you must attend"

"It’s a tradition and the Valenhardt line swore that every heir would step foot into the Apex Academy"

Daniel sighed dramatically, leaning back.

"So, in short, no escape."

"No escape," she affirmed with a teasing grin.

They both laughed lightly.

"But," she continued, voice soft again.

"One of my wishe is for you to experience what you’ve missed"

"Friendships, rivalry, discovery... even those small moments of mischief that make life worth remembering."

Daniel’s gaze lowered slightly.

He didn’t say anything, but his silence was heavy.

She knew the reason.

For a boy who had been enslaved, it wouldn’t be right to call those memories of being a slave worth cherishing.

Indeed, having those moments with Caelira, Manork, Kiel and Rika were worth cherishing, but that was different.

"I understand," he finally said.

"If that’s your wish, then I’ll go."

Her expression brightened immediately.

"You will?"

"Of course." He smiled faintly.

"I might as well see what kind of place our ancestors built."

Melira beamed.

"That makes me happy."

"So, when do I start?"

"In a week," she said proudly.

"But before that, you’ll have private tutors to teach you basic lessons, noble hierarchies, continental powers, law, diplomacy, the usual royal necessities."

Daniel groaned.

"That sounds like torture."

She laughed.

"Only an hour per lesson, three lessons a day. And the rest of the time will belong to me."

"That sounds even more dangerous," Daniel teased.

"Oh, it is," she replied mischievously.

The week that followed became something Daniel would never forget.

The mornings began with tutors, strict old men and women with sharp eyes who seemed to believe that boredom was the mark of excellence.

"Prince Daniel," said one instructor sternly, "when addressing a Duke, you do not simply nod"

"You incline your head slightly, no more, no less."

Daniel yawned.

"So if I nod too low, it’s a declaration of war?"

The old man froze. "...Technically, yes."

Daniel smirked.

"Noted. I’ll make sure to avoid any unnecessary wars though I don’t mind if they find fault with me"

From the corner, Melira stifled a laugh, pretending to read a report.

By the second day, the "Basic Powerhouse Hierarchies" class had nearly driven him insane.

"So there are 12 tiers in the Mythic Rank?" Daniel muttered, scratching his head.

"Why not just call them all monsters?"

His instructor, a dignified mage with a floating quill, looked appalled.

"Because, Your Highness, those monsters govern the balance of all the world!"

Daniel leaned back with a grin.

"So I was right."

Melira sighed, hiding her smile behind a hand.

"He’s definitely your son..."

Afternoons, however, belonged entirely to her.

Sometimes, they shared tea in the royal garden where sunlight danced between the vines.

Other times, she dragged him to the city markets in disguise.

"Mother, are you sure this is a good idea?"

Daniel muttered beneath a cloak.

"What if someone recognizes us?"

"Then they’ll just see a lovely mother and her shy son," she said sweetly.

"I am not shy."

"Of course you are, darling."

Daniel groaned.

"You sound like you’re enjoying this."

"I absolutely am."

When they stopped by a stall selling candied fruits, Melira smiled softly.

"I used to love these when you were small. I’d steal them from the kitchen."

Daniel blinked. "You did?"

"Oh yes. I’d take one, run behind the drapes, and think no one could see my sticky face."

He chuckled quietly.

"You were a genius, wasn’t you, mother?"

"I was a sticky genius," she said proudly.

Evenings were quieter.

Sometimes they’d dine together alone, talking softly under golden candlelight.

"I know I can’t make up for all those years,"

Melira said one night, her gaze distant, "but if I can at least give you a few moments of peace, that’s enough for me."

Daniel looked at her.

"You already have, Mother."

Her eyes softened.

"You say that... but I still see how your eyes drift sometimes, like you’re looking at a world I can’t see."

Daniel paused, the flicker of memory flashing in his mind, chains, blood, the sound of steel and cries.

"I can’t erase that world," he admitted softly.

"But I can make new ones. With you."

Melira’s hand trembled slightly as she reached across the table.

"Then promise me you’ll let me be part of them."

He smiled faintly. "You already have."

By the sixth day, lessons had become easier, not because they were less difficult, but because Daniel had learned to handle them with humor.

"Your Highness," his etiquette tutor said, "you must remember, the spoon is for the soup, not the stew."

"Is that why wars start?" Daniel deadpanned.

Melira, sitting behind, burst into laughter so hard that the poor instructor nearly fainted.

After lessons, they spent hours by the lake behind the castle.

The water glimmered like liquid sapphire as swans glided over its surface.

Melira watched her son quietly, the sunlight reflecting in his silver hair.

"You’ve grown so much, Daniel..."

He turned to her, smiling softly.

"You say that every hour."

"Because every hour, I see something new in you," she replied, eyes glistening.

"Something your father would’ve been proud of."

Daniel’s expression softened.

"...Was he like me?"

She chuckled sadly.

"It’s hard to say"

"But one thing is for sure, your father, ee was loud, arrogant, and reckless, and would cause trouble everywhere and would even fight against those that are stronger... but he loved his family more than life itself."

Silence lingered for a moment before Daniel said, "Sounds like he and I are like twins"

"Maybe, we’d get along very well" Daniel teased.

"That would be for sure" Melira chuckled.

"And maybe I inherited that from him."

Melira blinked. "Recklessness?"

"No," Daniel smiled faintly. "Loving you."

Her breath hitched. "Daniel..."

She reached forward and hugged him, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Please...don’t grow up too fast, my son..."

"I think I already did, Mother," he whispered back, his tone soft but full of warmth.

On the seventh day, as the morning sun poured through the windows, Melira adjusted the collar of his uniform, together with Maiya.

He looked at himself in the mirror, polished buttons, embroidered insignia, and the golden crest of Valenhardt over his heart.

"Well," Daniel said lightly.

"I look like I’m about to go to war, not a school."

Melira smiled through the ache in her chest.

"In a way, you are."

He chuckled.

"Then I’ll make sure to win."

She smoothed his hair and whispered, "That’s my son."

For a moment, neither spoke.

The silence was heavy but comforting, filled with a thousand unspoken words.

Finally, Melira smiled.

"Promise me one thing, my son."

He turned to her. "Anything."

"No matter how strong you become, don’t carry everything alone."

He paused, then nodded slowly. "...I’ll try."

She cupped his face gently, eyes shimmering with tears.

"That’s all I ask."

For the first time in sixteen years, her heart was both heavy and light, heavy with love, and light with hope.

Her son had returned not as a lost child, but as a young man ready to carve his own legend.