"I don't understand, Eevee..."
Mariana's voice was quiet, threaded with confusion. She stood near the hearth with her hands dusted in flour, the fire low and steady behind her, as if the world beyond the stone walls had not just shifted under their feet. Eve did not soften.
"It isn't safe anymore," she said. "Not here."
Her mother frowned, turning fully now, searching her daughter's face.
"You've said that before. Eshan has never been completely safe. But... now we have a Queen again. People are relieved."
"They shouldn't be." Eve's jaw tightened. She took a step closer, snow still clinging to the hem of her cloak. "Quinn Varanin's coronation changes things. I need you away from this. I would feel better if you left... If you went to Odessen. Just for a while."
Mariana shook her head slowly.
"Odessen? Eevee, I don't even know anyone there."
"You don't need to." Eve's voice sharpened despite herself. "You just need to be out of reach. The Path is stationed there. They will take care of you."
Her mother studied her then, really studied her, eyes narrowing not in anger but concern.
"You're not telling me something." Eve held her gaze and said nothing. Mariana exhaled. "If this is about politics, about titles and alliances and whatever, I don't understand why that means I have to run."
"It isn't politics." The words came out harder than she intended. She caught herself, steadied. "Please. Just trust me."
"I... can't," Mariana said gently. "This house, this farm... it's been my whole world for nearly twenty years."
The words landed deeper than they should have. Eve felt it like a fracture, sharp and immediate. This house. These walls. The low beams darkened by smoke and time. The place where she had learned to breathe with the Force. Where laughter had lived. Where Tigris had knelt, awkward and hopeful, hands shaking as he asked a question Eve had answered without thinking. A lifetime of love. A lifetime of memories.
Her chest tightened. Silence stretched between them, heavy and unkind. Eve's hands curled at her sides, fingers digging into her palm as if she could hold herself together through sheer force of will. Her shoulders trembled once, betrayed her. She tilted her head down, then up again, and her silver eye caught the firelight, bright and wet. Her voice broke, just slightly.
"Please, Mama."
Mariana stepped forward once. Flour-dusted hands came up, one settling against Eve's cheek, warm and familiar, her thumb brushing beneath her eye as if Eve were still small enough to be soothed that way.
"What's wrong, Eevee?" she asked softly. Eve swallowed. Her throat hurt.
"Quinn is..." She faltered, then shook her head. "She's... not good. At all. Eshan... isn't safe anymore, Mama. Not for me. Not for you. Please..."
A tear slipped down Mariana's face as she turned her head, gaze drifting around the room. Eve followed it without thinking. The hearth stones worn smooth. Bundles of drying herbs hanging from the rafters. The table scarred by years of meals and arguments and quiet mornings. The faint scent of earth and smoke and home. They stood there together, taking it in, as if both of them knew, without saying it, that something had already ended.
Mariana's hand stayed on Eve's cheek. The fire crackled softly.
Outside, winter pressed closer.
