CHAPTER 65: EX 65. DIANA QUEEN

A sleek black Celestia Lumina glided down the smooth, stone-paved roads of the capital, its chrome finish gleaming faintly under the midday sun. The luxury car was the signature ride of nobility—its presence alone parting traffic, the Federation’s crest engraved subtly on the hood like a quiet declaration of status.

Inside, the interior was plush and silent, the outside world muffled by the car’s advanced soundproofing. In the back seat, Elizabeth sat still, her snow-white hair cascading down her shoulders like silk. Her head rested gently against the tinted window, but her gaze wasn’t focused on the passing world—it drifted far deeper, lost in thought.

The driver, a uniformed man with graying temples and a respectful tone, glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

"Lady Elizabeth," he said cautiously. "Would you like us to stop anywhere before we reach the estate?"

Elizabeth didn’t shift. Her voice, soft yet composed, came without delay.

"No. I’d like to reach the estate as soon as possible."

The driver gave a quiet nod, saying nothing more.

As the vehicle turned down one of the nobility-designated lanes, Elizabeth’s fingers lightly curled around the edge of her seat. Her mind wasn’t in the car—it was still back in the arena, replaying the moment that refused to leave her.

She had been so focused on Leon’s safety and survival, that everything else had been muted in her heart.

But now... now that he was safe she had time to remember what she saw.

A Dragon.

Not a beast, not a hallucination. A black dragon—its form vast and terrifying, so immense that her mind hadn’t been able to comprehend it. She hadn’t seen its full body, only fragments, shadows and coiling scales lost in darkness. But one thing had burned itself into her memory: Those, golden, ancient and intelligent eyes that had stared into her very soul.

The weight of its gaze, the way it had emerged in her mental space, the power that surged through her just before she saved Leon—it wasn’t coincidence. It was something inside her. Something buried. Something she was only now beginning to awaken to.

Her hand tightened in her lap.

She remembered the exact moment. As Leon was impaled, her panic had erupted into an unnatural stillness. A lightless storm within her. And then... a voice. Echoing through her mental space.

"Come home."

Only two words. But the moment she heard them, something inside her had shifted.

The voice—soft, regal, hauntingly familiar—had sounded like...

Her mother.

The car continued its quiet journey, weaving past elegant stone bridges and tree-lined estates. Elizabeth didn’t speak again, her expression unreadable. But deep in her chest, a sense of urgency bloomed.

She was going home.

And it was time to find out why.

****

Elizabeth sat in the large, dimly lit office, her posture composed but her heart was anything but calm. The room was silent, filled with the scent of old books, polished wood, and the faintest trace of lavender. Across from her, seated behind a black lacquered desk with golden trim, was Diana Queen.

Diana was, without exaggeration, a perfect older reflection of Elizabeth. The same high cheekbones, the same delicate but noble features, the same sharp, golden eyes that could cut down pride with a glance. If not for their age difference, they could have passed for sisters. But one thing now clearly marked the line between them.

Elizabeth’s hair.

White as snow. A stark, unnatural contrast to the Raven-black strands that framed Diana’s face like Midnight. Diana’s voice broke the silence, calm and elegant. "I’m glad they didn’t stop you from returning."

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed faintly.

"I was wondering why they didn’t." Her voice held no malice, only curiosity. But beneath it was something else—wariness.

"So... it was you."

Diana nodded once, graceful and unapologetic.

That only deepened Elizabeth’s thoughts. ’The Federation is strict, ruthless and cold with it’s rules. How did she make them bend?’

But she didn’t press. She knew her mother. If Diana wanted her to know something, she would.

And she was right.

Diana’s next words made the air feel heavier.

"You must have seen your father by now."

Elizabeth froze.

Her thoughts went blank, eyes widening in stunned confusion.

"...Father?" she echoed internally, like the word itself was foreign.

Since she was a child, that name had existed only as a void. A presence defined by absence. Every time she asked about him, Diana had given the same response:

"You’re not ready yet."

No photos. No memories. Not even a name. Just silence.

But now—now—her mother was speaking as if she should have seen him already.

Elizabeth clenched her fists under the table, her voice trapped in her throat. "How would I have seen him if you’ve never even told me what he looked like?!"

But she didn’t say it out loud.

Instead, she stared into her mother’s unwavering gaze. That unshakable seriousness in Diana’s golden eyes told her everything: this wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t a test. It was a truth finally surfacing.

And then—

It clicked.

The dragon.

The voice.

The golden eyes.

The overwhelming presence in her mental space.

She stood up from her seat, almost knocking it over, her hands trembling.

"That’s... impossible." Her voice cracked.

"There’s no way it would fit."

Diana "...."

****

Diana’s golden eyes lingered on her daughter, studying her closely as if trying to decipher something deeper—something even Elizabeth herself didn’t fully understand.

Then, suddenly, Elizabeth’s hand flew up to cover her mouth, eyes wide in shock.

’Why did I say that?’ she thought, heart racing. ’What even made me blurt that out?’

A faint silence stretched between them—tense for a moment—until Diana let out a soft, amused chuckle.

"That boy’s influence on you is stronger than I thought."

Elizabeth blinked, then flushed a faint shade of pink as realization dawned.

"You mean Leon...?"

Diana gave a slight nod, eyes glinting with subtle humor.

Elizabeth’s blush deepened.

"S-Sorry, Mother. I don’t know what came over me..." she mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

But Diana only waved it off, her expression softening.

"It’s fine. You’re still young."

She paused, her tone shifting slightly—quieter, more grounded.

"And to answer your earlier question... it doesn’t just fit, Elizabeth. It fits perfectly."

That sentence left Elizabeth stunned, her lips parting slightly in disbelief. She couldn’t tell if her mother was being entirely serious, or simply teasing her again with that unreadable expression of hers.

But before she could ask anything more, Diana’s tone shifted once again.

"Now then, enough of the jokes."

She stood from behind the mahogany desk with graceful authority, straightening the cuffs of her elegant coat as she moved toward the door.

"I’m sure you want to hear about your father."

Elizabeth straightened up immediately, her breath catching.

"I do."

Her voice was steady, but her hands were trembling.

Diana reached for the doorknob, glancing back with a calm smile.

"Good. Come—let’s take a walk. I’ll tell you everything along the way."

Elizabeth nodded quickly.

"Yes, Mother."

She moved to her mother’s side, her heart pounding in anticipation. Together, the two women stepped out of the office, the heavy doors closing behind them with a quiet click, sealing away the old silence. And ahead—awaited the truth.