MIRA
The hallway to Eric’s quarters was dim, but my heart thudded with purpose, chasing away the shadows that crept along the stone walls.
Every step I took echoed with silent decisions. My thoughts raced faster than my feet. I didn’t knock when I reached the door, I pushed it open without warning.
He was seated at the small table by the window, a pile of parchment in front of him. He looked up sharply, but his expression softened when he saw it was me. Anastasia wasn’t there. Good.
“Mira?” His brow lifted slightly. “Is something wrong?”
I mean, he should be suprised. Me visiting at this hour, and without telling him also. He should know that something was wrong.
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. “Yes,” I said, voice low and heavy. “Very wrong.”
He gestured to the sea
