Inside, the moment father and pup stepped into the den, their confusion deepened. The living chamber looked noticeably emptier.
Riven’s brows lowered. His voice steadied, cautious. “Freya… was something removed from the house?”
Kael noticed it too—the absence of the framed drawing he’d given her. He tugged at her sleeve, panic rising. “Mother, where’s my picture? Where did it go?”
Freya gently shook off his hand. She took a drink of water before replying, unhurried, “Those things were cluttering the place. I sold them to the scrap collectors.”
Hearing that, Riven quietly exhaled in relief. As long as his secret stayed buried, nothing else mattered. Even if he betrayed her, in his heart Freya was still the only Luna he acknowledged.
His expression eased. He leaned down and lightly pinched Kael’s somber cheeks.
“This little saying means ‘Clear away the old to welcome the new,’” Riven told him gently. “Your mother is simply encouraging you to draw a fresh family portrait. After all, our little Kael has grown so much.”
Kael believed every word. He threw himself into Freya’s arms and chirped, “Mother, I’ll make lots and lots of new portraits for you!”