The air on the balcony tasted of ash and apple blossom.
Rose stepped into it barefoot, the cool stone grounding her as she leaned against the railing. The tower spanned wide and proud beneath her, a kingdom bathed in morning haze. Fields unfurled into mist, trees like soft sentinels bowing under dew. It should have felt peaceful. Serene.
But beneath the beauty, something stirred. Not fear. Not yet.
A pulse. A rhythm deeper than heartbeat. Older than breath.
She pressed her palm to the cold stone, feeling it thrum faintly beneath her skin. As if the world had heard her dream—and was responding.
Behind her, footsteps padded across the chamber. She didn’t turn.
“You felt it too,” she murmured.
Alex came to her side, his expression unreadable in the soft light. “It wasn’t just a dream.
