Duvan arrived at the Future Tech branch carrying Cyrene, both of them soaked from the rain.

  The scene outside was chaos controlled by worry.

  Hera stood near the entrance, her face pale with fear, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white. Kieran paced nearby, moving like a caged animal, every line of his body screaming tension. Staff members hovered uncertainly, wanting to help but not knowing how.

  The moment they saw Duvan approach with the small figure in his arms, everything stopped.

  "Cyrene!" Hera's voice broke on the name.

  Duvan walked inside, water dripping from his coat, and carefully set Cyrene down.

  The little girl immediately ran to her parents, small arms outstretched, tears streaming down her face mixing with the rainwater.

  "I'm sorry!" she sobbed. "I'm sorry for running away, I'm sorry—"

  Both Kieran and Hera dropped to their knees simultaneously, pulling her into an embrace that looked almost desperate.

  "No, we're sorry," Hera said, her voice thick with tears. "We're so sorry, sweetheart. We should have—we should have been honest with you. We never should have lied."

  "It's our fault," Kieran added, one large hand gentle on his daughter's wet hair. "Everything is our fault, not yours. Never yours."

  They stayed like that for a long moment—a family united by relief and regret, holding each other like they were afraid to let go.

  Duvan stood back, giving them space, but watching carefully.

  During Cyrene's absence, something had clearly changed between Kieran and Hera. Some decision had been made. He could see it in their body language, in the way they looked at each other—still complicated, still painful, but with a kind of resigned determination.

  They're going to tell her, Duvan realized. The truth. All of it.

  Hera pulled back slightly, hands framing Cyrene's face, and opened her mouth to speak.

  "Cyrene, sweetheart, we need to tell you something important about—"

  Cyrene sneezed.

  Small, violent, her whole body shaking with it.

  Duvan stepped forward. "She'll catch a cold if you let her stay wet much longer."

  All three of them looked at him—Cyrene with residual wonder from their journey through accelerated time, Hera with gratitude so intense it was almost painful to witness, and Kieran with something more complicated.

  Cyrene sneezed again, harder this time.

  "Right. Yes." Hera stood immediately, scooping Cyrene up. "Let's get you dry and warm. We have spare clothes in the residential section."

  She carried Cyrene toward the interior of the building, leaving Kieran and Duvan alone in the entryway.

  The silence stretched.

  Finally, Kieran lowered his head in a bow. "Thank you. For finding her. For bringing her back. I—" His voice caught. "Thank you."

  Duvan's expression remained neutral. "I didn't do it for you."

  The words were cold, factual.

  Kieran flinched but didn't look up.

  "I did it for the child," Duvan continued. "She has no fault in any of this. She's innocent. That's the only reason I went looking."

  "I know." Kieran's voice was barely audible. "But I'm still grateful. Even if I have no right to be."

  Duvan studied him for a moment—this man who'd been the Hero, who'd lost his signature ability, who was clearly holding himself together through sheer force of will.

  Part of him wanted to say something harsh. Something about consequences, about poor choices, about how Kieran had helped create this mess.

  But mostly, he just felt tired.

  "Take care of her," Duvan said finally. "That little girl deserves better than what we've all given her."

  Then he turned and left, water still dripping from his coat, exhaustion pulling at every step.

  He had his own problems to deal with.

  Twenty minutes later, Cyrene sat between her parents in a private room.

  She was warm now, dressed in borrowed clothes that were slightly too big, her hair still damp but drying. A cup of hot chocolate—courtesy of Future Tech's surprisingly well-stocked kitchen—sat in her small hands.

  Hera and Kieran sat on either side of her, both looking nervous in a way that made Cyrene's stomach flutter.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  They're going to tell me the truth, she thought. The real truth.

  And she was scared. But also... ready. Because not knowing was worse than knowing, even if knowing hurt.

  Hera took a deep breath, her hand finding Cyrene's.

  "Sweetheart," she began, her voice gentle but firm. "Papa and I... we're not married."

  Cyrene nodded slowly. She'd kind of figured that out already.

  "But that doesn't mean we don't love you," Hera continued quickly. "We love you so, so much. More than anything in the world. You're the most important thing to both of us."

  Kieran's voice joined in, rough with emotion. "Your mama is already married to another person. A good person. Someone who's been taking care of her."

  "But we kept that a secret," Hera added, "to protect you. Because there are bad people who might try to hurt you if they knew the truth about our family."

  Cyrene processed this, her young mind working through the implications.

  Both parents watched her anxiously, clearly struggling with how much to explain, how to make a five-year-old understand political machinations and blackmail and all the adult complications that had created their situation.

  Cyrene took a sip of her hot chocolate, thinking.

  Then she said, slowly: "You lied to protect me."

  Both Kieran and Hera looked at each other, then back at their daughter.

  "Yes," they said in unison.

  "Like heroes do," Cyrene added, remembering Duvan's words in the rain. "Sometimes heroes lie to protect people."

  Something in Hera's expression crumbled—relief and sorrow mixing together.

  "Yes," she whispered. "Exactly like that."

  Tears started falling down Cyrene's cheeks again. "But you really love me? Both of you? You're not pretending about that?"

  "Oh, sweetheart—" Hera pulled her into a hug, Kieran's arms wrapping around both of them. "We're not pretending about that. We could never pretend about that."

  "We love you more than anything," Kieran added, his voice breaking. "You're our entire world."

  "I love you too," Cyrene sobbed into their embrace. "I love you both so much."

  They held each other, three people bound by love and lies and the desperate attempt to do right by a child caught in circumstances beyond her control.

  Finally, Cyrene pulled back, wiping her tears with the oversized sleeve of her borrowed shirt.

  "You're my heroes," she said seriously. "Both of you. Even if you had to lie. Mister Duvan said that's okay sometimes."

  Hera smiled—genuine, warm, the first real smile Cyrene had seen from her in what felt like forever.

  "Mister Duvan is very wise," she said softly, hugging Cyrene tighter.

  The mood was lighter now. Still complicated, still sad in places, but better. Honest.

  Kieran watched this exchange, his thoughts churning.

  Duvan.

  The Time Prince had been cold when they'd met—professional, efficient, clearly focused on larger concerns than individual feelings. In battle, Kieran had seen him move like a force of nature, calculating and precise.

  But with Cyrene in the rain, he'd been... different. Gentle. Patient. Taking time he didn't have to comfort a scared child.

  Maybe, Kieran thought, I misjudged him.

  His thoughts were interrupted by Cyrene's next question, delivered with the innocent curiosity only children could manage after emotionally devastating conversations:

  "Mama? What's a marriage?"

  Hera paused, clearly not expecting the topic to shift quite so directly.

  Kieran looked at her, waiting to see how she'd explain.

  "Marriage," Hera began carefully, "is when two people love each other very much and decide to be together. To take care of each other. To be a family."

  Cyrene nodded, processing this with serious concentration.

  "So..." She wiped at her remaining tears. "Mama is married to someone else because she loves them?"

  "Yes."

  "And that's why you can't love Papa? Because you already love someone else?"

  The simplicity of the question hit both adults like a physical blow.

  "Yes," Hera said quietly. "That's... yes. That's why."

  Cyrene was quiet for a long moment.

  Then: "So I have another papa?"

  The room went silent.

  Hera's breath caught. Kieran went very still.

  Cyrene just looked confused, tilting her head in that way children did when adults weren't answering obvious questions.

  "I mean..." Cyrene's voice was tentative. "If Mama is married to someone else, that means I have another papa, right? Like how some kids at the sanctuary have step-mamas or step-papas?"

  Hera looked at Kieran, her expression somewhere between panicked and pleading.

  How do we explain this?

  Kieran felt his heart breaking for what felt like the hundredth time today.

  Because answering yes meant acknowledging that Duvan would be part of Cyrene's life. Meant accepting that his role as father would have to be shared. Meant watching his daughter build a relationship with the man married to the woman he loved.

  But looking at Cyrene's confused, hopeful face, Kieran made a choice.

  Be selfless, he told himself. For once in your life, put what she needs ahead of what you want.

  He let out a long breath and smiled—genuine, if painful.

  "Yes," he said gently. "You have another papa."

  Cyrene's eyes went wide, sparkling with something like excitement despite the tear tracks still on her cheeks.

  Hera stared at Kieran, shock written clearly on her face. She'd expected him to deflect, to avoid, to make this harder.

  Instead, he'd just... accepted it.

  For Cyrene, she realized. He's doing this for her.

  In Kieran's mind, the logic was clear despite the pain:

  Duvan Excy. Time Prince. Grand Protector. Genius inventor. Powerful, capable, respected.

  More than capable of being a good stepfather.

  More than I could give her, probably.

  The thought hurt. But it was true.

  "Who is it?" Cyrene asked, bouncing slightly with barely contained curiosity. "My other papa? Do I know him?"

  Hera took a deep breath, steadying herself.

  "Yes, sweetheart. You've met him. Just now, actually."

  She looked at Kieran, who nodded slightly—permission to continue.

  "It's Duvan."

  Cyrene paused, processing.

  Then her face scrunched up in confusion.

  "Duvan who?"

  Despite everything—despite the emotional devastation of the day, despite the complications and pain—Hera almost laughed at the innocent question.

  "Duvan Excy," she said gently. "The Time Prince. Mister Duvan, who found you in the rain."

  Cyrene's mouth dropped open.

  Her eyes went impossibly wide.

  Her hot chocolate nearly slipped from her small hands before Kieran caught it.

  "Mister Duvan?" she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "The Mister Duvan? The Time Prince? The Grand Protector?"

  "Yes."

  "The one who stops time and saves people and invented all the cool things and fought the monsters today?"

  "Yes."

  "That Mister Duvan is my other papa?"

  Hera couldn't help but smile at her daughter's reaction—shock and wonder replacing the earlier sadness.

  "Yes, sweetheart. That Mister Duvan."

  Cyrene sat in stunned silence, her young mind clearly trying to reconcile the legendary figure she'd heard stories about with the gentle man who'd found her crying in the rain and stopped the raindrops just to make her smile.

  The man who'd carried her through time itself, who'd been so careful and kind, who'd explained about heroes and lies in a way that made sense.

  My other papa, she thought, testing the idea.

  And despite all the confusion, despite all the complicated adult things she didn't fully understand, despite everything...

  She felt safe.

  Because if Mama loved Mister Duvan, and Mister Duvan had been so nice to her, then maybe—just maybe—everything would be okay.