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... re winter's chill. It wasn't the river's touch—it was the weight of his father's gaze.

Peleus stood unmoving in the dark water, his hands clasped behind his back, his robes unsoiled despite the current that should have dragged them under. He was exactly as Ceremus remembered—formidable, unyielding, so incredibly kind, yet there was a hint of sadness laced in his grey eyes.

"Ceremus, my son, though your heart remains just, your actions have proved otherwise over the years. What ha ...

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

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