It took a full ten minutes for Amael to explain the entire situation to Belle, how he’d encountered Lisandra and Alphonse during their fight with Metatron, how he’d saved them, how they’d started visiting his camp, how he’d suggested they fake their deaths to end the war, and how they’d ended up living here together on Xenithia for the past three years.

When he finally finished, Belle fell into thoughtful silence.

The quiet stretched long enough that even Amael, who was used to his mother’s contemplative moments, started to feel slightly uneasy. He could hear her processing every detail, turning it over, examining it from angles he probably hadn’t considered.

Finally, she raised her gaze back to the two women sitting across from them.

Both Lisandra and Alphonse visibly flinched under her silver stare.

They’d heard plenty about Amael’s mother over the years, stories and descriptions that had painted a picture of someone amazing and loving in equal measure. But hearing about someone and actually sitting across from them were entirely different experiences. Belle didn’t just look like a goddess, she felt like one. The pressure of her attention was quite there. Despite being Demigods themselves, they both felt it distinctly.

After what felt like an eternity, Belle spoke.

"So what you’re telling me..." She began, her eyes narrowing, "is that you have been living with my son for three years....and you haven’t even thought about sleeping with him?"

Lisandra’s mouth dropped open. No sound came out. Her entire face flushed so thoroughly red it looked painful, the color spreading all the way to her ears and down her neck.

Alphonse had gone equally crimson, but rather than attempt words, she simply turned her head away and stared very intently at the wall.

"Hm." Belle’s attention shifted downward to her son, still lying peacefully in her lap. Her fingers continued trudging through his silver hair. "What about you, my son?"

Both women, despite their mortification, turned slightly, hesitantly, almost against their will waiting for Amael’s answer.

At this point there was nothing left to be embarrassed about. Belle had demolished every possible boundary of propriety in the space of two questions.

Amael shrugged casually. "I’m saving myself for Ephera."

Belle immediately reached down and pulled both his cheeks outward with her free hand. "That wasn’t what I asked you."

"Do you want to kill them from embarrassment, Mother?" Amael pointed out, his words slightly distorted by the cheek-pulling. "Because this is how you do it."

Belle glanced back at the two women, who looked like they were approaching critical mass, and released a long, very disappointed sigh.

"It seems my wish to see my grandchildren will have to wait," she said mournfully.

"You could have given me some siblings, Mother," Amael replied. "Diversified your options."

"I wouldn’t let that man lay beside me again," Belle said with sharp scorn, "until he apologizes properly and tells me everything he’s been hiding."

"My father, hiding things." Amael’s smile was wry. "What a shocking development."

"You shouldn’t sound so smug," Belle said, her eyes narrowing as she pulled his cheeks again while simultaneously stroking his hair with tender contradiction, "when you’ve been hiding these two from me as well."

There was genuine hurt beneath the words. Amael had never hidden anything from her. Not ever. That had always been their understanding.

"I’m sorry, Mother," he said, and meant it. "But their existence needed to stay secret. If Michael learns I’ve been hiding these two, protecting them, keeping them off the board and so perturbed his stupid war, I’ll be hearing about it for eternity. It’s better for everyone if as few people know as possible."

Belle’s gaze lifted back to the two women, reassessing them in this new light.

"I—I’m Lisandra," Lisandra stuttered, straightening her spine and forcing herself to meet Belle’s eyes. "Lisandra Arvatra."

"I’m Alphonse," Alphonse added, with considerably more composure than Lisandra had managed. "Alphonse Sylvain Celesta."

Amael’s head tilted slightly in Belle’s lap, a thought occurring to him apparently for the first time.

"Wait," he said, looking at Alphonse with genuine surprise. "Your name is Alphonse?"

Alphonse nodded.

"Your real name?" He asked again. "Not a cover identity?"

She nodded again.

Amael stared at her for a moment in something approaching disbelief.

"Your parents really went too far with this farce."

"I know, my full name is even more manlier..." She said quietly, "Alphonse Sylvain Celesta."

Amael was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking. Then his expression shifted.

"Oh." He looked at her smiling. "How about changing Sylvain to Sylvia then?"

"Are you her mother, Amael?" Lisandra grimaced.

Amael turned his smile on her. "You had it easier Lisandra, would you like me to call you Lisandro?"

"N—Never!"

"That’s what I thought," he said with satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Alphonse had gone very still. Her hand drifted up to touch her still-damp platinum blonde hair, fingers curling in it slightly, her expression shy in a way that was rare for her.

"Sylvia..." She said quietly. Then her sapphire eyes lifted to meet Amael’s shyly. "I—I like it."

"..."

Amael looked at her for a longer moment than he’d intended.

In the flickering light of the fire, with her face slightly flushed, her platinum hair catching the warm glow, those luminous sapphire eyes fixed on him with such open, unguarded happiness, she looked...

"How cute."

Amael’s head snapped toward his mother, breaking whatever moment had been forming.

Belle was smiling down at him with a lot of fondness, clearly having watched the entire exchange with a mother’s particular brand of knowing amusement.

He grunted and looked away quickly.

Belle giggled and pulled his head into a gentle embrace against her.

"You can name your wives," she said, "but I will be the one naming my grandchildren."

"They aren’t my wives, Mother," Amael said again.

Belle simply continued her gentle ministrations, her fingers moving through his silver hair. "You can hide nothing from your mother, my sweet boy. I know everything. I can tell everything you feel with a single look."

Amael looked up at her, and despite everything—despite the embarrassment, he smiled.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I really can’t hide anything from you, Mother."

Across the fire, Lisandra and Sylvia found themselves smiling as well, watching the exchange with something warm settling in their chests. They’d never seen Amael this relaxed before, this completely, utterly at ease.

Within a few more minutes, still lying in Belle’s lap with her fingers moving through his hair, Amael’s eyes drifted closed and his breathing deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Belle looked down at him for a long moment, her expression impossibly soft, before raising her gaze to the two women across from her.

"Did he tell you about Ephera?" She asked them.

Both nodded.

"Then you’ve heard about his past life, if you can call it that. His life as Nyrel?"

"A bit," Lisandra admitted, glancing at Sylvia who nodded in agreement. "But honestly, it was confusing. We couldn’t really understand what it meant."

"Think of it as another life he lived," Belle said, her eyes returning to Amael’s sleeping face with a mother’s particular expression, love mixed with grief. "A life where he suffered far more losses and pain than anyone should have to endure. Pain he didn’t deserve."

"Is that about Ephera?" Sylvia asked gently.

"Partly." Belle’s fingers stilled for a moment in Amael’s hair, then resumed their motion. "She died, yes. But before that, his family from that life, his parents, his sister, they all died as well. He lost everything. Everyone."

Both women gasped softly.

They’d lost their parents too, but it wasn’t the same. Their relationships had been complicated at best, distant and political. They hadn’t been particularly close to the remaining parent either. But to lose people you actually loved, your entire family...

"Nihil promised to bring Ephera back," Belle continued, and now her voice had taken on a harder edge, "in exchange for Amael’s obedience. His cooperation with whatever plans Nihil has for him."

"Amael mentioned that..." Lisandra nodded.

"That man is hardly trustworthy." The words came out sharp and bitter. "He always has Eden in his thoughts first before making any decision. His loyalty to Eden supersedes everything, even his own son."

"But Amael is his son," Sylvia said, confusion clear in her voice.

"He is. And I suppose Nihil cares for him in his own way." Belle said. "But his feelings are... complicated. Mixed with too many other things. His loyalty to Eden. His guilt over Samael. He could never, will never love Amael the way I love him. Not purely, not simply, not with his whole heart."

Lisandra and Sylvia looked at each other amused. Amael said exactly the same thing to them.

Belle continued then, her expression becoming sadder.

"There aren’t many people who love my son for what he is," she said, looking directly at both of them now, "rather than for what he has. For his power, his bloodline, his potential usefulness in their schemes." Her silver eyes searched their faces. "But both of you... you seem to love him for who he is. Just him."

Both women felt heat rising in their faces. They didn’t confirm it out loud, couldn’t quite bring themselves to speak the words directly but they didn’t deny it either. The silence was answer enough.

Belle’s expression softened seeing straight through them.

"He is doing well here," she said gently. "Happy, in a way I haven’t seen in a very long time. I hope he remains that way. However, his mere existence is viewed as either a threat or a treasure to covet by those with power. When that becomes undeniable, when forces move against him will you be there to support him?"

"We aren’t strong enough to protect him," Sylvia said, her fists clenching in her lap with a bit frustration.

They were Demigods, yes. But there was a chasm, a vast, unbridgeable gulf between their strength and Amael’s. And an even greater one between them and the truly powerful beings Belle was speaking of.

But Belle shook her head.

"I’m not asking you to fight his battles," she said. "I’m asking you to support him as friends or more. As people who love him and whom he loves in return. That kind of strength matters more than you might think."

"We will," Lisandra said. "But aren’t you here for that? You’re his mother, and you’re clearly..."

She trailed off, but the implication was clear. Belle was powerful. Genuinely, terrifyingly powerful, they could tell that. Surely she could protect him better than anyone.

"I am here," Belle acknowledged. "And I will always be here for my son, in whatever capacity I can manage. But I am aware of my limits." Her expression hardened. "There are powers in this world, forces that are far stronger than I am. And some of them seek him specifically."

"Even though he’s the son of Guardian Nihil?" Lisandra asked, genuinely shocked. What could possibly threaten someone with that kind of backing?

Belle nodded slowly, her gaze still fixed on Amael’s sleeping face.

Then she looked up at them seriously.

"I want you to promise me something."

Both women straightened, giving her their full attention.

"If a genuine threat emerge, if his life is truly in danger from forces we cannot fight, take him away from here," she said. "Far away. Even to another world, if it comes to that."

"A—Another world?" Sylvia repeated, startled.

Belle nodded. "Somewhere he would be safe. Somewhere no one could touch him or use him. Somewhere he could be unburdened from all of this, from destiny, from bloodline, from prophecy. Somewhere he could simply... exist."

She paused, and something complicated moved through her expression.

"I doubt Amael would wish for that himself," she sighed. "He’s not the kind of man who runs, who abandons responsibility even when it’s killing him. But unfortunately, his very presence, who and what he is, makes some things impossible to resolve any other way." Her silver eyes locked onto theirs. "Promise me. If it comes to that moment, if you see no other path, you’ll take him somewhere safe. Even if he fights you. Even if he hates you for it."

Lisandra looked at Sylvia. Sylvia looked back.

Then, together, they both nodded.

They doubted they could actually protect him but they could do their best and will do certainly their best. It would be nothing against what he did and was doing for them.

"We promise," Sylvia said.

"We’ll keep him safe," Lisandra added.

Belle smiled at that.

"Thank you."