The verdict (part 1) – Noctavian's POV

Profound shock stopped the flow of air in the Crown Prince's lungs for a moment. Rarely did he encounter something that defied his calculations, but the sight before him was a chilling surprise.

Carved into countless mana stones was his mother's face, the sole source of warmth and light in Egon von Conradie's self-imposed sentence of cold and darkness.

"Say something, Noctavian," Egon urged.

"...Is this how you transform a hole into a sanctuary?" He attempted to mock, though his voice lacked the biting edge for it.

Egon grinned, "That's an interesting way of putting it. A home without a woman is no home at all."

What a wretched life Egon von Conradie had led senselessly.

Bending down to retrieve one of the stones from the ground, Noctavian traced the lines of his mother's face with his forefinger. This particular stone was a pretty shade of green, much like the vivid hue of his mother's eyes.