"I never felt it." 

Cera's eyes briefly fluttered shut, too aware of how deeply he understood what she meant but also aware of how he had been blessed with Midas' attention far more than she. But she, at least, had known a mother's love. So he supposed they both experienced the gaping hole left behind when a parent did not love you as they ought to. But he did not know what he could say to ease something like that, an ache that lay in the past but still hurt her in the present moment. It was a hurt he could not heal or soothe, but one he felt in his own heart. So perhaps he could offer her the understanding that she was not alone in how she felt. 

"I know," he murmured, as if the weight of that knowledge was simply too heavy to speak any louder. "I can't fix that. I can't change that for you, and I'm sorry. If I could, know that I would." Cera would sacrifice his own status as a son to Midas if it would have given Ranjiri the ability to grow up beneath the love of an unbroken family. He did not hold that power though, and there was nothing he could do for her. That was the worst fate he could ever suffer. 

Head shook sadly as the Prince sighed. "You never should have had to make the effort on your own. That's the job of a father. But...I don't know. I'm sorry Jiji but I just don't know why he did that. Why he only left when the Gods called him. Perhaps his love and his loyalty for them was simply stronger than his love for us." And if his voice was plainly bitter, well. Ranjiri would surely understand why. "Even with how close he and I were in comparison, he still abandoned me. I don't know why, and I suspect we will never know." The dead could not talk, after all. No matter how many questions Cera may still have for his father beyond the veil. 

"I am still angry with him, even after all this time. It does not make life easier for me. Do yourself the favor, Ranjiri. Do not waste your time being angry with a ghost. Forgiveness is stronger than any grudge." Fate's powers could not be swayed, and their unanswered questions could either haunt them both forever, or they could set themselves free by forgiving Midas' transgressions. 

"... do you feel that way about Momma? Like she doesn't love you?"

The question caught Cera so off guard that he flinched, and Ilaria cooed softly in his ears as her paws rubbed soothingly at his skin. Motherhood was a difficult topic for Cera, perhaps more so than any conversation about Midas could aspire to be. 

"I...Ranjiri you must understand, I am not...tied by blood to your mother in any way. I doubt she even remembers me, much less feels any particularly strong emotion towards me." Despite his efforts Cera could not hide the pained strain of his voice as he spoke. It's okay, Cera. You never needed a mother to be loved. It doesn't make you someone lesser. Ilaria's voice was a gentle, familiar consolation. But it did not do much for the lump in his throat. 

"My birth mother abandoned me in the Throat, and I did not even speak to another soul until I was well on my way to my first year. I don't want to insult your mother by saying that yes, I don't believe she loves me. But I was never her son, and I was never loved by her." Not that he held it against Ktulu, for he understood why she would not feel so deeply towards him. They had only met once or twice, and he had been there for Ranjiri most of the time. She had no ties or requirements to fulfill regarding the Golden Prince, and Cera had never asked her to play mother for the adopted son of her then-mate. 

But Ranjiri's last words were a balm to his aching heart, and Cera smiled a tad sadly and bumped her nose gently with his own, trying to lift her eyes and spirit. "I'm glad. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, Ranjiri. And we don't need Midas to tie us together." Blood would never come into question, for their relationship ran far deeper than that.