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Aeryn Valeria Roderick Journal Page : 7


I understand now that my earlier assumptions regarding absurdity were deeply incomplete.

Until recently, I believed the primary anomaly surrounding this journey was Miss DeLuna herself.

Unfortunately, I have now realized the situation is significantly worse.

The absurdity appears hereditary.

This morning, High Admiral Kael requested a private conversation with me.

Naturally, I attempted to remain calm.

Unfortunately, remaining calm becomes increasingly difficult around people capable of casually commanding fleets large enough to erase cities from maritime maps.

When I arrived at his office, he studied me quietly for several moments before speaking.

“Aeryn Valeria Roderick,” he said.

“You resemble your mother more than Ronan does.”

That sentence alone nearly stopped my brain entirely.

Apparently High Admiral Kael is my relative.

More specifically, a cousin of Mommy’s.

According to him, we simply never met properly because his duties keep him stationed around the waters surrounding Isla de la Luna.

The Forbidden Sea itself.

He also casually informed me that he meets Ronan fairly often within the Capital.

In fact, several of Ronan’s current business connections were apparently introduced through him personally.

At this point, I would like to officially state the following:

Daddy never looking at other women now makes perfect sense.

What I previously interpreted as romance may actually have been highly advanced survival instinct.

High Admiral Kael later spoke at length regarding Ronan.

Apparently if “Roderick blood had not interfered,” Ronan would have become an exceptionally capable military knight.

According to Kael, Ronan possesses unusually high talent in logistics, battlefield supply management, and strategic coordination.

“Unfortunately,” Kael added, “he is even better at trade.”

I spent several seconds silently processing this information.

Mostly because within my mind, Ronan still resembles an overexcited golden retriever wearing expensive clothing.

Then I remembered Spathian.

The man currently attempting to revolutionize maritime engineering using spoons and unstable inspiration.

At that exact moment, I experienced a deeply unpleasant realization.

Apparently every member of my family is absurd except me.

Comforting.

Eventually, I asked the obvious question.

If Kael was connected to my family…

Then did that mean Miss DeLuna and I were technically related somehow?

Kael immediately shook his head.

“No.”

He explained that he simply knew the DeLuna family well because the Black Leviathan Fleet has long been tasked with guarding the waters surrounding Isla de la Luna.

According to him, Miss DeLuna often visited Leviathan Fort while growing up.

Which apparently explains why she behaves around one of the continent’s most feared admirals as though he were merely a large fishing companion.

At one point, I carefully asked something that had bothered me for quite some time.

“Isn’t the DeLuna family supposed to be storytellers?”

Kael looked at me for several moments afterward.

Then answered calmly:

“That is what the DeLuna family calls themselves.”

I am still uncertain whether that response clarified anything at all.

Afterward, Kael finally explained the true governing structure of Isla de la Luna.

The island is ruled not by a king.

Nor by a singular noble bloodline.

But through Seven Councils.

Equal in authority.

Each responsible for preserving different aspects of civilization itself.

The Council of the Eternal Record.

Keepers of official history.

Wars.

Treaties.

State memory.

The Council of Whispered Tales.

Guardians of myths, oral stories, folklore, and cultural identity.

Current leadership of this council apparently belongs to Miss DeLuna’s father.

The Council of the Living Map.

Explorers.

Cartographers.

Recorders of geography, routes, and discoveries.

The Council of Veiled Truths.

At this point, I began regretting asking questions.

According to Kael, they preserve forbidden records.

Political secrets.

Conspiracies.

Knowledge deemed dangerous for ordinary circulation.

I dislike this council deeply already.

The Council of Echoed Hearts.

Preservers of personal stories.

Letters.

Emotions.

Human memory itself.

The Council of the Silver Thread.

Diplomacy.

Negotiation.

Political agreements.

Reading intention hidden beneath language.

Frankly terrifying for entirely different reasons.

And finally—

The Council of the Fading Light.

Historians of endings.

Deaths.

Fallen kingdoms.

Disasters.

Patterns repeating across history.

According to Kael, they study the past to predict the future.

This council frightened me enough that I briefly considered pretending to faint in order to escape the conversation.

The truly horrifying part is this:

Kael explained all of this respectfully.

Seriously.

Not like myths.

Not like old stories.

But like institutional structures that have existed for an extremely long time.

Older, perhaps, than some nations currently operating around them.

At one point during the conversation, I finally asked the question that had apparently been haunting me since meeting Miss DeLuna.

“So… Miss DeLuna really is some kind of princess?”

Kael became strangely quiet afterward.

Then answered:

“Sort of.”

I dislike that answer immensely.

Before ending the conversation, Kael suddenly looked directly at me and spoke very carefully.

“When you arrive there…”

“Do not assume every member of House DeLuna resembles Miss DeLuna.”

His tone shifted slightly afterward.

“She is the anomaly within her family.”

I genuinely did not know how to emotionally recover from that sentence.

Before leaving, Kael gave me one final warning.

If something truly dangerous happened within Isla de la Luna—

Even the Black Leviathan Fleet would not be capable of helping me.

Not because they lacked strength.

But because certain things existed beyond military authority entirely.

Then, after several moments of silence, he added one final sentence.

“You will likely be fine.”

“You are still a Roderick.”

I am still thinking about those words now.

Because honestly—

At this point, I am no longer entirely convinced the name “Roderick” actually means very much in a place like Isla de la Luna.

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