(POV Alisea — Aileen)

  I have no tears left.

  I wipe my face and let the mirror slip from my arms. It floats there. Calm. Indifferent. As if nothing has happened.

  Inside its silver surface, a fragment of parchment shimmers in gold filigree. Words carved into it.

  I hear the triton’s voice again — the one who killed my love.

  “That mirror is Anam. Read the words aloud… and he will live again.”

  It’s absurd.

  And yet…

  What if he was telling the truth?

  …

  No. What am I thinking? It’s madness. Impossible.

  I want this to be a nightmare. I want to wake up.

  Anam… I miss you so much.

  It has to be a lie. It has to be.

  But what would it cost me to try?

  I take the mirror in my hands.

  The mere thought of seeing him again makes me tremble so violently I’m afraid I might drop it — so I hold on tighter.

  (POV Dorcha)

  Aileen… she’s really going to do it?

  I find myself praying to the sky, begging the new Seal to break the sirens’ magic.

  Please. Great Sage… let it work. Please.

  (POV Alisea — Aileen)

  I can’t afford to make a mistake.

  I read the inscription again and again in silence. If there is even the smallest chance that speaking these words will bring Anam back… they must be perfect.

  “The world that awaits you…”

  What world?

  My world began and ended with him.

  And now…

  My vision blurs. My throat tightens.

  I wipe my tears away, almost angrily.

  Enough. Get a hold of yourself.

  One st look at the parchment.

  I straighten.

  This is it.

  I enunciate every sylble.

  “If too deeply within yourself you remain, only shadow and chains you shall cim. Then the world that waits beyond your sight shall erase your essence from the light.”

  A heartbeat.

  That’s all.

  The mirror explodes into a thousand shards and vanishes.

  Anam—

  What is—

  In its pce, a blue stone.

  It burns with light. Brighter and brighter — then drifts toward me, as if guided by will, and locks itself into the bracelet around my wrist.

  A sharp pain sms into my skull.

  The world tilts.

  What’s happening—

  My tail… it’s turning iridescent—

  I can’t breathe—

  What’s happening to me—

  (POV Dorcha)

  Yes.

  Yes!

  It worked!

  Aileen’s tail is splitting — dividing into two. Her hair is shifting, darkening, the silver fading. Her skin glows again — warm, alive, golden.

  She’s back.

  My Aileen is back.

  Those green eyes. That cascade of chestnut hair with the streak of sunlight I love so much.

  I can’t stay hidden anymore.

  I rush out from my shelter and swim straight toward her.

  “Aileen!”

  She turns — startled. Confused.

  “Dorcha? Where are your legs? Why do you have fins? Where are we? And Grogher? Raertha? Hercules? Sidae?”

  “Love—” I grab her, pulling her against me. “Love, you’re back—”

  I hold her like she’s the only solid thing in a storming sea.

  She holds me too. For a moment, we just stay like that.

  Then I pull back.

  “You… don’t remember?” I ask carefully.

  She blinks at me.

  “Remember what? You’re acting strange. And— for all the clouds above — can’t you turn back to normal? That tail is… unsettling.”

  I let out a breathless ugh. “Trust me. It unsettles me too. But let me hold you a little longer. Please.”

  I do. I can’t stop myself.

  My heart is pounding so hard it hurts.

  She’s alive. She’s here.

  But—

  I hear something.

  A shift in the water. Too subtle to ignore.

  We’re not safe.

  I meet her eyes, serious now.

  “Aileen… we need the tail down here. It keeps us from drawing attention. I’ll turn you back into a siren — just for now. And your hair… it needs to be blue again. Silver too.”

  She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “I don’t want a fish tail. And I certainly don’t want blue hair.”

  Gods… she’s really back.

  “I don’t want it either,” I say softly. “But we don’t have a choice. You don’t know what’s happened since we arrived.”

  My voice drops without me meaning it to.

  Every instinct is on edge.

  “Shh. Come with me.”

  I take her hand and guide her toward the darkest recess of the cavern.

  And I begin to tell her everything.

  (POV Queen Selìna)

  By the sacred tides… what are they doing here?

  I step into the Great Hall beside Nèilos and freeze.

  They never come.

  If they are here… something is very wrong.

  “Father… Mother.”

  (POV King Niùt)

  My daughter…

  How beautiful she is.

  She carries my colors — yes. But the grace, the ethereal poise… that is all Silèna. All her mother.

  (POV Queen Silèna)

  Look at the way this foolish little siren stares at us.

  Then again, why am I surprised?

  She has always been a burden. Even as a child.

  Possessive. Arrogant. Self-absorbed from the moment she drew her first breath. Whenever a quarrel broke out, no one ever had to ask who had started it.

  I once hoped marriage would temper her.

  What a na?ve thought.

  Instead, she dragged Nèilos down to her level.

  And this… this is the result.

  “Selìna. Nèilos,” I greet them.

  I should embrace them.

  I cannot.

  I am too angry.

  (POV Selìna)

  That tone.

  I don’t like it.

  “What a pleasure,” I lie smoothly. “To what do we owe this unexpected visit?”

  Father begins pacing the hall, hands csped behind his back — the way he does when he is measuring someone’s fate.

  His eyes nd on me.

  Sharp. Predatory.

  Ah.

  “We have received word that Alisea has risen,” he says without ceremony. “And that, from time to time, she emits a golden radiance. An unusual trait for a siren, wouldn’t you agree? Expin yourself, Selìna.”

  My blood drains.

  How—

  Who—

  I gnce at Nèilos. Did he betray me?

  No. He looks as lost as I feel.

  Deny it. Deny everything.

  “Who would dare spread such absurd rumors, Father?” My voice trembles despite me. “Alisea died years ago. Have you come here only to torment us with old grief?”

  Perhaps guilt will disarm them.

  It does not.

  “Selìna!” Mother’s voice cracks like thunder. “Do not insult our intelligence.”

  “Well?” Father presses. “We are waiting. The truth.”

  The pressure is suffocating.

  I break.

  Tears spill as I clutch Nèilos’ hand, digging my nails into his skin. He understands, doesn’t he? He must stay silent.

  He must—

  No.

  No, no—

  He is telling them everything.

  (POV Nèilos)

  The more I speak, the more unreal it sounds.

  Even to me.

  My in-ws listen without interrupting. Their faces harden with every revetion.

  And they are right to.

  Had I not tried to shield Selìna… I would never have allowed any of this.

  “How,” Selìna demands at st, furious, “how could you do such a thing?”

  But Niùt is no longer looking at her.

  He is looking at me.

  Disappointed.

  “Nèilos,” he says quietly, and that is worse than shouting. “How did you allow yourself to be led so easily? What kind of king are you? You could not even recognize the urgency of Princess Aileen’s plea. You wasted precious weeks. You have brought shame upon the People of the Sea.”

  I cannot answer.

  I cannot even hold his gaze.

  “Very well,” Silèna decres. “If you are incapable of ruling, then you will no longer rule. You — summon Aura and Amina.”

  “No!” Selìna screams.

  “Silence, useless child!” Niùt thunders. “You will not defy your mother.”

  Selìna surges forward, eyes wild, stopping inches from his face.

  “This is my kingdom!” she spits. “You have no authority here. Guards!”

  No one moves.

  She calls again. Louder. She swims to the two triton sentries at the doors and seizes them by the arms.

  They cross their tridents in front of her.

  Blocking her.

  Mother watches, arms folded, almost pitying.

  “Struggle all you like,” she says calmly. “They serve me now. No one is pleased with the way you and your husband have governed. Since you ensved the Oceanine people, you have been hated. Did you truly believe there were no blood ties between our realms? The only thing that kept your subjects kneeling was fear.”

  Her voice lowers.

  “And a kingdom built on fear… is already lost.”

  Selìna turns her face away. Angry. Proud. Refusing to cry.

  “Aura. Amina,” Niùt says softly as movement stirs at the entrance.

  The tridents part.

  The twins enter.

  (POV Silèna)

  My girls…

  By all the tides — what have they done to you?

  They are thinner. Pale. Dressed in servant silks.

  “Why are you dressed like that?” Niùt demands.

  “Because… we are attendants now,” they whisper together.

  Attendants.

  Attendants?!

  “Where is your father?” I ask, though dread is already rising.

  They look at each other.

  Amina begins to cry.

  “In prison,” Aura answers through trembling lips. “He is… near death.”

  Niùt turns slowly toward Selìna.

  Rage radiates from him.

  “That isn’t true!” Selìna blurts. “I only told them that to make them more obedient. They were unruly—”

  Coward.

  I am ashamed she carries my blood.

  “Enough.” Niùt raises his scepter.

  A streak of blue light strikes Selìna across the throat.

  Her voice vanishes.

  She clutches her neck. Tries to scream.

  Nothing.

  Silence.

  “Ah,” Niùt says coolly. “I prefer it this way.”

  “So do I,” I reply. “Now we restore order. Nèilos — summon Neptunes and Stel. They are to be freed at once. And send for Princess Aileen.”

  “Grandmother…” Amina whispers.

  “Yes, child?”

  “Mother… cannot come.”

  A chill passes through me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She was transformed,” Aura says. “Into a seahorse. She is kept in a cage in the lower vaults. We have not seen her since we were imprisoned.”

  A seahorse.

  My own daughter—

  I turn to Selìna slowly.

  “You transformed your sister into a creature?” My voice shakes with fury. “You denied your nieces their parents? You stripped them of their dignity?”

  She backs away.

  Good.

  She should.

  “Oh,” I murmur coldly. “Very well. If that is the lesson you enjoy teaching… then let it be taught.”

  Violet light gathers in my palms.

  I release it.

  She tries to flee.

  Too slow.

  The magic wraps around her, shrinks her, reshapes her.

  And where my daughter once stood… a tiny blue seahorse now trembles.

  Niùt scoops her up and seals her inside a small enchanted cage.

  She will remain there.

  Until we decide otherwise.

  I lean closer.

  “How curious,” I say softly, “that you are so merciless with the weak… and so helpless before the strong. I expected at least an attempt at resistance.”

  She cannot answer.

  Her father took her voice.

  “And you never even learned to cast without speaking,” I add quietly. “A pity.”

  “Nèilos,” I command, “bring Stel. I will restore her true form.”

  A guard rushes in, bowing deeply.

  “Your Majesties. The hostages have been freed. And we have confirmed the location of Princess Aileen and Prince Dorcha.”

  AUTHOR’S CORNER

  Thank you for reading the forty-first episode of Sigillum Maximum – The Webnovel.

  Aileen has returned. The bance of power has shifted.

  And now, I want to hear from you.

  Aileen — the choice of identity

  Aileen takes the mirror in her hands. She knows it could be another deception.

  And yet… she hopes. She reads. And at st, she comes back to herself.

  When the stone locks into her bracelet and the transformation begins…what did you feel?

  Dorcha — joy that doesn’t st

  For a moment, everything seems to resolve.She’s back. She recognizes him. She embraces him. And then… reality closes in.

  Did it feel like a victory to you — or only a fragile truce?

  Selìna — power built on fear

  When Niùt strips her of her voice… when the guards no longer answer her command…

  Did you feel satisfaction? Or unease?

  Is it right to overthrow a tyrant by force?Or does every imposed power carry the same risk within it?

  Silèna — justice or vengeance?

  Transforming her own daughter into a seahorse.

  Was it deserved punishment? Or an excess of anger?

  In that moment, was Silèna a wise Queen —or a wounded mother?

  Did you approve of her decision?Would you have done the same? Or… something different?

  The Kingdom

  “A kingdom built on fear is already a failure.”

  This line doesn’t speak only of the Sirens.It echoes through everyday life — in work, in school, in friendship, in love.

  What are your thoughts on that?

  I can’t wait to read what you think.

  May light find its way into even the smallest corners of your life.

  With love,— Eleanor Lian