The adrenaline of the win was a strange, hollow thing. It carried me through the immediate storm of congratulations, the disbelieving handshakes, and the cautious, assessing eyes of the Vanguard executives who now saw me not as a contestant, but as a colleague. Arthur remained a calm, grounding presence by my side, a silent shield against both the well-wishers and the gawkers. He escorted me out through a private exit, away from the baying press, and into the quiet sanctuary of his car.
The drive was silent. The city lights of Paris blurred past the window, a glittering tapestry that felt a million miles away. I leaned my head against the cool glass, the roar of the crowd finally fading from my ears, replaced by a low, persistent hum of anxiety.
"You were magnificent," Arthur said softly
