Sebastian’s POV
The first thing I notice is the sound.
Heels. Slow, deliberate, echoing against marble — the kind of sound that doesn’t belong in this house at this hour. I’m not expecting anyone. Everyone invited tonight is already here or gone. The staff knows better than to use the main hall once dinner service ends.
I pause in the corridor, glass in hand. My reflection in the window looks half-feral — shirt sleeves rolled, collar open, hair an unmade wreck from the number of times I’ve dragged my fingers through it tonight. My head aches from smiling for the board, from deflecting questions about the breach, from pretending the world isn’t one inch from burning.
Then I see her.
Lena.
Standing in the archway like she’s walked straight out of a fever I haven’t recovered from. Folde
