Because of course it wouldn’t be simple.
Of course, the Storm Knight couldn’t exist without tying herself to another damned royal prophecy.
And when the session finally broke apart, when I stormed into the Queen’s private parlor demanding answers, all she said was:
“There are things better left in shadow, Abby.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Her eyes softened, just slightly. “Lucien’s survival… isn’t a story I’m ready to tell.”
Alaric stood at my back. Silent. Hands fisted at his sides.
Later that evening, in the gardens under silver moonlight, Alaric’s voice broke through the lingering silence between us.
“I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I.”
“But he looked at you like…”
“I know,” I whispered. “Like he knows something I don’t.”
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
Not because of lightning.
