Elysia's gaze shifted to Eren, her stern expression softening immediately. Her silver eyes—mirrors of Naia's and Lyra's—filled with unmistakable warmth.
"Eren, dear," she breathed, her voice gentler than moments before.
Eren's jaw tightened. "Is that how you greet your daughters? By sending attackers after us?"
Confusion flashed across Elysia's face, followed swiftly by fury as her eyes landed on the attackers Eren still held by their throats. She dropped her helmet, the metal making a dull thud against the soft earth.
"I would never—" she began, her voice sharp with indignation.
"I did it," a voice called out from behind the formation.
