The old woman dropped to her knees, the smack echoing through the forgotten sanctuary like a warning. No one moved. Not a soul even dared to breathe.
The wind that had slipped through shattered pillars just moments before—gone. Everything waited, as if the forest itself listened in.
Nyra stood rooted to the spot.
The oracle's eyes, clouded and blind, somehow found her in the darkness. When she bowed her head, there was nothing uncertain in the gesture. Her hands trembled where they pressed against the stone floor, old and worn, but steady in purpose.
“My Queen…”
The words dropped into that perfect silence, sending ripples everywhere.
Every warrior in the room exchanged glances, lost. One of Lucien’s captains slid a hand to his sword hilt, almost on instinct. Someone else muttered, “H
