Tyla’s POV
The first time I realize the world is truly ours, it is because no one notices.
Not in reverence. Not in fear. Not even in gratitude.
They just… move.
The city wakes into itself with the careless confidence of something no longer waiting to be corrected. Shutters open. Water is drawn. Arguments begin over bread prices and end over laughter no one remembers starting.
Life, unobserved.
I stand at the window and feel an unexpected ache behind my ribs.
Not loss.
Relief so deep it almost hurts.
—
Arthur leaves early.
Not because he must, but because he wants to help rebuild the southern steps before the rains return. He kisses my temple absently, already half-gone, mind on stone and mortar instead of borders and consequence.
“I’ll be back before dusk,” he says.
“I won’t
