Three days after the gala, Selina returned to Vale Manor for a family dinner.
It wasn't an official event.
No executives.
No investors.
No lawyers carrying stacks of documents.
Just family.
Which somehow made it more intimidating.
The dining room looked exactly as she remembered.
The long table.
The crystal chandelier.
The large windows overlooking the gardens.
Years ago, this room had felt cold.
Tonight it felt unfamiliar in a different way.
Because things had changed.
Damian sat at the head of the table reviewing messages on his tablet.
Rowan was already helping himself to dessert before dinner had even started.
Livia was speaking quietly with one of the household staff.
And seated near the far end of the table—
was Elara.
Selina paused.
Because she suddenly realized something.
She hadn't spoken to Elara properly since the night of the Core collapse.
Not really.
There had been brief conversations.
A few exchanged words.
Nothing substantial.
Nothing honest.
Elara looked up from her glass of water.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Elara gave a small nod.
"Selina."
"Elara."
Simple.
Polite.
Yet strangely awkward.
Rowan immediately noticed.
Of course he did.
"Well, this isn't uncomfortable at all."
Selina kicked him under the table.
Hard.
Rowan yelped.
Damian didn't even look up.
"Deserved."
"Father!"
"Still deserved."
The conversation moved on.
Thankfully.
Dinner itself was surprisingly normal.
Rowan complained about work.
Damian criticized an investment proposal.
Livia corrected both of them.
For a while, Selina simply listened.
Observing.
And then she noticed something.
Elara was quieter than usual.
Not withdrawn.
Not upset.
Just thoughtful.
Several times she seemed about to say something.
Only to stop herself.
Eventually dinner ended.
The family gradually dispersed.
Rowan disappeared immediately.
Claiming he had important work.
Nobody believed him.
Within minutes, only Selina and Elara remained in the garden terrace behind the manor.
The evening air was cool.
A gentle breeze moved through the trees.
Neither sister spoke at first.
The silence stretched.
Then Elara finally broke it.
"You've been avoiding me."
Selina blinked.
That wasn't what she expected.
"I thought you were avoiding me."
Elara laughed softly.
A genuine laugh.
"Then we're both terrible at communication."
"Apparently."
The tension eased slightly.
They began walking slowly through the gardens.
For a while, only the sound of their footsteps filled the silence.
Then Elara stopped.
"Do you hate me?"
The question caught Selina completely off guard.
She turned toward her sister.
Elara wasn't looking at her.
Her gaze remained fixed on the flower beds ahead.
As though saying the words aloud had been difficult.
"Why would I hate you?"
Elara smiled faintly.
But there was no humor in it.
"Because I spent years benefiting from things you should have had."
The honesty stunned Selina.
Elara continued quietly.
"I knew Father favored me."
A pause.
"I knew people compared us."
Another pause.
"I knew you were treated differently."
The words hung heavily between them.
For years, nobody in the family had acknowledged it.
Not openly.
Not honestly.
Yet here Elara was.
Admitting it.
"I didn't stop it," Elara said.
Her voice lowered.
"I told myself there was nothing I could do."
Selina remained silent.
Listening.
Elara finally looked at her.
"And maybe there wasn't."
Pain flickered across her expression.
"But I still feel guilty."
The confession lingered in the night air.
For the first time, Selina saw her sister clearly.
Not as the favored daughter.
Not as the perfect Vale heir.
Just a woman carrying her own regrets.
Her own doubts.
Her own burdens.
"You were a child too," Selina said quietly.
Elara stared at her.
Surprised.
"You don't blame me?"
Selina thought about it carefully.
Years ago, perhaps she had.
Years ago, watching Elara receive attention and affection had hurt.
But now?
Now she understood something she hadn't before.
Elara hadn't created the problem.
The adults had.
The family had.
The circumstances had.
Not Elara.
"No," Selina said.
And she meant it.
The relief that crossed Elara's face was immediate.
Almost heartbreaking.
She laughed weakly.
"I spent three days preparing arguments."
Selina raised an eyebrow.
"Arguments?"
"In case you yelled at me."
"I wasn't going to yell at you."
"I wasn't sure."
That actually made Selina laugh.
For a moment, they stood there smiling.
The years between them suddenly feeling smaller.
Then Elara's expression grew serious again.
"Can I ask something?"
"Of course."
Elara hesitated.
Something uncertain crossed her face.
"The Blackthorn inheritance."
Selina sighed.
"Everyone keeps asking about that."
"I'm not asking about the money."
That immediately caught her attention.
Elara folded her arms.
"I'm asking about you."
A pause.
"You found out you're Selene Blackthorn."
Another pause.
"You found out about the Core."
"And?"
Elara looked directly at her.
"How are you actually doing?"
The question surprised Selina more than anything else that evening.
Not because it was complicated.
Because it was sincere.
No agendas.
No politics.
No family obligations.
Just concern.
Sisterly concern.
Selina looked away briefly toward the dark gardens.
Considering her answer.
Then she smiled softly.
"I'm okay."
Elara studied her carefully.
As if searching for a lie.
Eventually she nodded.
"Good."
The simple word carried more emotion than an entire speech.
For a while they continued walking.
The conversation becoming easier.
Lighter.
Then Elara suddenly stopped again.
"Oh."
"What?"
A mischievous smile appeared.
The first one Selina had seen all night.
"I forgot to tell you."
Selina immediately became suspicious.
"Tell me what?"
Elara's smile widened.
"I met Lucian yesterday."
That wasn't unusual.
Their families interacted frequently.
Yet something about Elara's expression felt dangerous.
"What happened?"
Elara looked delighted.
"I asked him when he plans to stop staring at you."
Selina froze.
"…You did what?"
"He nearly choked on his coffee."
Selina covered her face.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Absolutely yes."
A laugh escaped Elara.
A real laugh.
Bright and effortless.
For the first time in years, the distance between them seemed to disappear.
Not completely.
Relationships didn't heal overnight.
But something important had begun.
Not a truce.
Not an obligation.
A genuine relationship.
As sisters.
And as they walked back toward Vale Manor together, neither realized that Damian was watching from the library window.
Quietly.
Thoughtfully.
Seeing his daughters side by side.
Perhaps for the first time, not divided by old wounds or family expectations.
Just sisters.
Exactly as they should have been from the beginning.