Despite the gentle rocking and swaying motion of the Shadow Nova under Wil's direction through the Leveyn Asteroid Field, Horatio's mind was anything but calm after a night of restless sleep. The holo of Max, wounded and burned, flashed through his thoughts relentlessly, taunting him and reminding him just how little help he'd been to his nephew despite his pledge to protect him. It had been a long time since he'd felt so helpless, more than five years, and he acutely felt the heartache deep in his old bones. Every tense moment was a moment more of worry, anxiety, and fear eating him from the inside out. Not even his wife's gentle reassurances could stay his turmoil, but as he sat beside his son in the cockpit and watched the stars stream by once they finally made the jump to hyperspace, he could somehow feel Wil's unease building, as well. After their arguments the day before and their complete silence for the past hour since leaving Paneau, their discussion ahead wasn't going to be benign.

"You doing alright?"

Wil's question was innocent enough, and it mercifully left Horatio the opportunity to answer as much or as little as he wanted. The longer he allowed the silence to linger, though, the more he felt compelled to answer his son truthfully as he more comfortably shifted himself in his seat.

"Didn't get any sleep."

Wil nodded with understanding, making one last check on the navicomputer before he sat back in his own seat. "Me, either."

A wild burst of anger briefly took hold of him. "Too busy making sure I wasn't going to break my promise?"

But he immediately regretted his harshness, unable to look Wil in the eye or see his reaction, though neither could he bring himself to apologize. Wil hesitated a long, strained minute, confirming Horatio's suspicions as he finally answered.

"You still manage to surprise me."

It was a subtle admission of guilt in so many words, and strangely enough, Horatio felt somewhat guilty, as well. His son had silently struggled all night but kept it to himself, maintaining a constant vigil and preparing everything for their trip on his own. It wasn't fair of him to blame Wil for expecting the same foolish mistake he'd made once before.

"Had I been the one to send you a message like that," Wil continued, ceding weakly, "...I know you would have left to help me anyway, no matter what anyone else tried to tell you or make you do. So...thank you for listening to me, Dad. Thank you for trusting me. It means a lot."

Still gazing straight ahead out of the swirling viewport, Horatio let go of a long breath, his frustration waning. He didn't feel that he deserved his son's gratitude, and he couldn't accept it with much more than a faint nod. After everything Wil had done for Horatio and his family over the years, Wil deserved better from him, far better than the old habits he'd so easily slipped back into recently. He'd promised Wil's mother that much.

"There's...something else I've been meaning to talk to you about," Wil spoke up again timidly after several quiet minutes, "something very important. Do you want to talk about it now, or...do you need some time?"

Looking over to meet Wil's gaze for the first time, Horatio desperately sought some minute tell in Wil's expression that might reveal the topic, but found nothing. His heart leapt into his throat, immediately assuming the worst.

"The girls...? Are they..."

"They're good," Wil countered quickly to soothe his worry, waving his hand. "They're fine. It's...about them, but, it's good. Very good. But also very important."

Still anxiously hanging on Wil's every word, Horatio remained motionless, wordlessly waiting for his son to continue. Wil seemed to consider his thoughts a long moment before speaking, posing a question that puzzled Horatio even further.

"...do you remember what my mom's job was?"

Horatio hardly breathed, dreading where their conversation would be going. "She was...a Ghost Heir, an intelligence agent for your family."

Wil nodded. "One of two, from different generations. Chosen to be removed from public, never to be officially acknowledged by the family, but vital to countless operations on Paneau and around the sector, protecting us." He paused briefly, his voice softening. "After our Uncle Cade passed, my brother Malin has been the only Rys'tihn Ghost Heir for a long time, for too long. He's done well enough, and I've tried to help him where I can, but...he and I are both...special cases.

"Malin's father is from another Royal Family; he's also an Ot'rio. And I was...quasi-formally adopted by Uncle Koril and Aunt Elena. Officially, I was announced as an orphan of some friends of the family, which...wasn't entirely untrue, but it left me in an odd state of limbo and with Rys'tihn intentionally omitted from my name on public and family records. So we Rys'tihns have had a lot of private discussions over the past few years: if Malin is allowed to be our Ghost Heir despite ties to another Royal Family, if I'm allowed to be a Known Heir even though I'm the son of a Ghost, and...where our next Ghost Heirs should come from."

A wave of deep emotion left him with a slow breath, settling his nerves. "The Paneau Royal Succession follows the first child of a Royal to have a child of their own. It was long assumed that my cousin Derek would be the first one to have a family. He was the most well-liked and successful, his siblings Kaylina and Kyren had chosen to become Jedi, and Dirani was...Dirani," he shrugged half-heartedly, "so...after he died, it left a lot of things up in the air. And then..." he clearly hesitated, his strength waning in earnest. "...I had my girls."

Horatio's breath had left him entirely, devastated to even think that one of Wil's twin girls would be taken away to be raised and trained in secret. His five-year-old granddaughters were absolute treasures to him, and they already shared such a special bond with his daughter Jewel and with all of their Rys'tihn relatives. How could the Rys'tihns so callously decide to disrupt the girls' fun-loving, carefree childhood because of an ancient family tradition?

Wil continued softly, even more emotion apparent in his voice. "A few months before he died, Uncle Koril asked to talk to me, alone. In one of the last few moments of lucidity he had, he told me he fiercely disagreed with what the family had decided. He begged me, in tears, to not split up my girls. He knew exactly what kind of distress they would face, how incomplete they would feel, separated from their other half for the rest of their lives. Twins share a special bond in the Force, and he felt that emptiness for years, without knowing its cause, until he met his sister for the first time in his twenties. My mother later told him how...isolated and alone she felt for so long, how destructive it was on her psyche, how much pain she felt constantly, knowing she had been chosen for her duties but had been forgotten all the same. Even though it's necessary, for the good of Paneau and for the family...it's a cruel practice, and I couldn't bring myself to do that to Dee or Rix. There had to be something else we could do.

"And that's when he told me something that he and only one other person knew at the time...that would change everything." He paused, meeting his father's gaze directly for emphasis. "The baby that Jewel and Amalia said they were staying behind on Paneau to see...wasn't Dirani's first. She had hidden her first pregnancy and had a child, secretly, about a year after my girls were born. And that child, a boy who's almost four now...will become the next Ghost Heir."

Horatio stared, certain relief was well evident in his own expression as he took in and let go of an exasperated breath, beyond thankful for the news. He couldn't find any appropriate words to say in his stupor, but Wil hadn't finished.

"In addition to that," he continued with a growing smile, "they granted Uncle Koril's dying wish - that I be installed, officially in the family records, as a Rys'tihn. As a tribute to my mother and to the sacrifice she made...I am now a Known Heir, and my girls are the newest line of Royal Succession, since they were born first." He paused again, hardly able to contain his pride. "...your great, great-grandchildren will be Paneau monarchs, Dad."

Completely stunned, Horatio felt suddenly numb. How was he to respond to that, finding out that his descendants would become so important to Paneau when he himself had come from absolutely nothing? An orphan from Coruscant with no known family ties other than a twin sister couldn't have ever imagined having a Royal son, especially after his dark and sordid past as a bounty hunter and mercenary for pirates and a number of other criminal groups. But a chance encounter with an exiled Ghost Heir years ago had changed his life forever, affording him a life of happiness and hope he never would have had otherwise. Even as his son sat beaming beside him, none of it felt real any longer.

"It's not been made fully public just yet," Wil soothed, sensing his father's anxiety. "Aunt Elena wanted to wait a bit longer after the funeral, so you won't have to worry about being bombarded by a bunch of journalists or anything. At least, not for a while."

Though his head was still spinning, Horatio at least managed an intelligible question. "...what else will change?"

"Well, the girls will have to enroll in the Provincial Academy in Dalon, as required of any Royal, to learn history, law, business, and more. So Embrey and I will be moving back to the capital to be closer to them. You and Liaa and Jewel are more than welcome to continue living at The Retreat, though, if you prefer. And you don't have to make any decisions right now, it's just something to think about. I'm sorry to bombard you. I've been trying to figure out a good time to bring it up, I just...hadn't found the right moment. And since we had the time on this trip, I thought...you deserved to know."

Again, Horatio could only nod in response, mentally reeling to the point of feeling his own body swaying in his seat. Wil seemed to take pity on him, reaching over and gripping his shoulder to steady him.

"Why don't you go get some rest? I'll tend to the controls for now."

Though he agreed and stood from his seat, his legs carried him out of the cockpit and towards the back of the ship without active direction. If anyone had tried to talk to him on his way to his quarters, it hadn't registered with him at all.