Protect me?
From the man suspended in light, looking half-dead and drained of life? That wasn’t protection. That was concealment. A trap. A lie wrapped in silk.
Louise’s words echoed in my mind like the chime of a cracked bell—beautiful in tone, but hollow in truth. I had followed her through these polished halls like a polite guest, like a respectful fool, but the moment I stepped into that chamber, I knew I had never truly been free inside this estate.
Her words weren’t wrong, exactly. They were carefully constructed. Too carefully. Meant to divert, to soothe, to manipulate. And I knew then—she was far more calculating than she let on. She spoke of current predicaments, deflected from the deeper questions I had risked everything to ask.
I could sense it.
Beneath her regal expression
