The hospital smelled too clean.
Aria noticed it the moment she stepped inside—sterile, sharp, wrong. Her shadows tightened around her ankles like living things, restless in a place that pretended to heal while quietly learning how to destroy.
She kept her face calm.
Her hand rested unconsciously over her abdomen.
Protect, the instinct whispered.
The doctor smiled too quickly.
“We’ll just run a few routine tests,” he said, eyes flicking once—just once—toward the door.
Aria felt it then.
Not fear.
Recognition.
The medicine he handed her was pale blue. Innocent. Common.
Too common.
She took it anyway.
Because queens learned faster when they let enemies believe they were winning.
******
The first wave hit her ten minutes later.
Not dizziness—numbness.
Her shadows recoiled viol
