[Thorenvald Estate—Dining Chamber—Later]

TA-DA!!!! SH-LA-LA!!!!

I flung open the box of Trivium Core Stone jewelry like I was unveiling the crown jewels themselves.

Mother and Alina’s mouths dropped open simultaneously, eyes sparkling like twin constellations. Even Father’s chest puffed out, a living statue of pride.

"Wow... I’ve never seen rainbow jewelry like this, brother!!!" Alina squealed, bouncing on her chair like a caffeinated marionette.

I puffed my chest. Mother’s eyes glinted dangerously.

"Is this... all for me?"

"Of course," I said with a wicked grin. "If you want more, I can send a small army. Or a parade. Your choice."

She gasped in delight, letting the gems tumble through her fingers like liquid sunlight. I picked a tiny chain with a delicate pendant and draped it over Alina’s neck at Mother’s insistence.

"I... I can’t believe we can convert Trivium Core Stones into jewelry," Mother breathed, tilting one to catch the light. "Look at this... it changes colors with every movement!"

The maids gawked. Father puffed up like a peacock.

"See? Didn’t I tell you? Our son is extraordinary. He builds greenhouses, discovers Trivium Core Stones, and—after befriending elves, of course—converts them into jewelry. Genius runs in this family!"

Mother’s gaze softened, then flicked to Alina. "It looks good on you, darling."

Alina beamed, tugging the chain. "I’ll show it to all my friends! They’ll be so jealous!"

I ruffled her hair. "Sure, little whirlwind. Don’t blind them with all that sparkle."

Then Mother’s eyes locked onto me—serious, unwavering, like a general planning a battle."So, son... should I promote this for you? I could roam parties wearing them, dazzling the crowds."

I smirked, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "No, Mother... I have a unique plan for promotion."

She blinked, intrigued. "Unique? Do tell."

I slammed my fist on the table, eyes blazing. "I’m going to arrange... a RAINBOW FASHION SHOW!!!!!!!! "

The room erupted. Maids clapped, eyes wide. Even the butler joined in, stammering, "We... we don’t know what that is... but it sounds amazing, my lord!"

Father clapped heartily, chest puffed, pride glowing. "Indeed! The world isn’t ready for this brilliance... but I am!"

Mother’s lips quirked, half-smile, half-dramatic approval. "Very well, my son. Let the rainbow shine. But... explain to me exactly what this Rainbow Fashion Show is."

I flopped into a chair with a flourish, trying to radiate the authority of a visionary.

"Ah... well, it’s simple, really. A... fashion show." I waved my hands vaguely, because gestures alone could probably convey genius. "People... wear jewelry. Blah... blah... they walk. Others admire them. They gasp. They compliment. Some bow. Blah... blah... maybe even faint. It’s revolutionary, Mother. The fastest, most efficient way to promote jewelry. No need to go door-to-door like common merchants, no awkward small talk at parties—just one grand event, and boom... instant awe."

Mother blinked slowly, as if trying to process my brilliance. Father blinked just as slowly, his chest puffing like a noble steam engine. Alina, on the other hand, had stars practically shooting from her eyes.

"Brother... that sounds... amazing! I want to see it! And... maybe be a model?"

I grinned. "Of course, little whirlwind. You’ll be my tiniest, sparkliest model. Grand finale material."

Mother leaned forward, eyes glinting with that mix of pride and scheming determination only she could muster. "And how much do you want for this... endeavor, my son?"

I blinked. "How much can you give me, Mom?"

She turned to Father with a pointed nod. "He deserves it. All of it."

Father’s expression went dead serious, lips pressing into a perfect line, eyes narrowing in focused resolve. "Sign the blank check. Now. Instantly. Without hesitation. And add a few zeros for... flair."

I practically fell out of my chair.

"I... I LOVE YOU BOTH!" I gushed, flinging arms wide in mock dramatic fashion.

Alina squealed and hugged my leg while Mother’s half-smile widened into full-blown theatrical approval. Father merely raised an eyebrow, perfectly composed, but I knew... inside... he was as thrilled as a kid in a candy shop.

And that, dear reader, was how the audacious, chaotic, and absolutely fabulous plan to organize the first-ever Rainbow Fashion Show officially began.

***

[Meanwhile at Regulfsson Mansion—Dining Chamber—Chaos Unleashed]

I stared at Mother flatly, arms crossed, as she trembled in disbelief. Her face had gone pale enough to rival any winter frost. Around us, the maids and servants were frozen, jaws slack, staring as if I’d just claimed the moon was made of cheese.

"What—what did you just say?" she stammered, her voice shaking like a leaf in a storm.

I sighed, calm as a perfectly still lake, and repeated, "I said... I love someone. And that someone... is a man."

For a heartbeat, silence reigned. Then— THUD!

Mother toppled from her chair in slow motion, hitting the ground with a dramatic oomph . She clutched her chest, trembling, muttering incoherently, "I... I am hearing... an absurd... thing... my ears... ringing..."

The dining chamber erupted.

"Call the physician!" shrieked one maid, flailing her arms.

"Call the priest!" yelled another, as if exorcism were the immediate solution.

"I... I can see madam’s soul... escaping to heaven right now!" the butler bellowed, voice cracking like a church bell.

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "Stop panicking, all of you. she’s fine."

Before anyone could protest, I bent down, lifting Mother in my arms like she weighed nothing—a tiny, melodramatic feather of human chaos. "Now... physician! Immediately!" I commanded.

***

[Duchess Chamber—Later]

The physician checked Mother with the precision of someone accustomed to handling delicate, high-drama cases. "Grand Duke, she’s just in shock. She will recover soon."

I nodded, trying to keep my patience from snapping. "Alright. You may leave."

The physician gave a respectful nod and quietly exited.

I turned my attention back to Mother. She lay there, pale, her eyes closed and uncomprehending. I could understand it—anyone would be shocked—but I silently hoped that this tension, this chaos, wouldn’t push me away from my Leif.

"Ugh..." Mother groaned, slowly opening her eyes.

I helped her sit up and handed her a glass of water. "Here... take this."

Her hands trembled slightly as she sipped, then she fixed me with a piercing gaze and stared at me for longer silently. "Alvar... were you playing a prank on me?"

I took a seat on the edge of her bed, voice calm but firm. "Mother... I am very serious. I really love someone but that person is a man."

She fell silent, staring at me as if trying to measure my words against some unseen standard. "But... how can someone... love a man? How is this possible? That’s the most absurd thing I have ever heard in my entire life."

"They can, Mother," I replied evenly, meeting her cold, assessing gaze. "And trust me, the man I love...is the most adorable human being that has ever existed in this world."

Her silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, her voice cut through, icy and deliberate. "Who is this person?"

I said clearly, unwavering: "Leif Thorenvald... Count Viktor’s child."

She remained silent, her expression unreadable—flat, cold, almost surgical in its detachment. Then, without warning, she nodded slightly. "Very well... send a message to him. I shall meet him."

I started to speak. "I will call him to the estate tomorrow—"

"No," she interrupted sharply, her tone cutting through the room like a blade. "Arrange a private meeting. No one is to be present except him... and me."

I went silent, staring at her, struck by the sheer chill of her gaze. Cold. Calculating. Unyielding. It wasn’t anger, not exactly... it was something sharper. Something that promised consequences I couldn’t yet predict.

I swallowed, my thoughts racing. I hope... everything goes well.

The room fell into tense quiet, the kind that presses against your chest and makes every heartbeat sound louder than it should.

And just like that, I walked out of her chamber—leaving me to wonder what storm Mother’s cold, unwavering scrutiny would bring.