Chapter 12: Distance, Not Escape
1320 Words
Leaving didn’t feel like freedom.
It felt like choosing distance because staying didn’t make sense anymore.
Kiana stood in the middle of her room, suitcase open, clothes folded with careful precision. Not rushed. Not messy. Just… deliberate.
Like if everything else stayed controlled, maybe her thoughts would too.
They didn’t.
Her eyes drifted to the window.
Same estate.
Same view.
But now she saw it differently.
The guards weren’t background anymore.
The quiet wasn’t peaceful.
The structure wasn’t comforting.
It was… intentional.
And she finally understood why.
A knock sounded.
Freya walked in without waiting, arms crossed. “You’ve been folding the same thing for five minutes.”
Kiana glanced down.
“…I’m thinking.”
“That’s worse.”
A faint exhale left her. Not quite a laugh.
Freya leaned against the desk. “You’re really doing this.”
“Yes.”
“No hesitation?”
Kiana zipped part of the suitcase. “Not about leaving.”
Freya watched her closely. “You know this doesn’t undo anything, right?”
“I’m not trying to undo anything.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Kiana paused.
That was the problem.
“I just don’t want…” she stopped, searching. “I don’t want to live in a place where something like that can happen again.”
That was it.
Simple.
Honest.
No deflection.
Freya’s expression shifted slightly.
“That’s fair,” she said quietly.
A beat.
Then, sharper—
“But don’t pretend this is just about the attack.”
Kiana frowned. “It is.”
“No,” Freya shook her head. “It’s about everything that came with it.”
Kiana didn’t respond.
Freya pushed off the desk. “You don’t question things. You just… accept them. But now you’ve seen it, and suddenly you want out.”
“I don’t want out,” Kiana said, more firmly than before. “I just want something normal.”
Freya studied her.
“You’ve never had normal,” she said softly.
That—
that landed deeper than it should have.
“I can try,” Kiana replied.
Freya held her gaze for a second longer.
Then nodded. “Then I’m coming with you.”
Kiana blinked. “You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
A small pause.
“I want to.”
Something in Kiana settled at that.
“Okay.”
The estate felt different when she stepped outside.
Not threatening.
Just… exposed.
Like she had been walking through it with her eyes closed before—and now she couldn’t close them again.
She passed two guards near the east corridor.
They nodded.
Respectful.
Watchful.
It made sense now.
Too much sense.
The stables were quieter.
Familiar.
Grounding.
“You’re leaving.”
Kiana didn’t turn.
“I heard,” Kylan added, stepping closer.
“Yeah.”
Silence.
He leaned against the railing beside her. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t tell anyone.”
“That’s not true.”
She exhaled lightly. “It wasn’t a conversation, Kylan.”
“It could’ve been.”
Kiana turned, meeting his gaze evenly.
“No,” she said. “It couldn’t have.”
A pause.
Something flickered across his expression—frustration, maybe something sharper—but it settled quickly.
“You’re just… leaving all this behind?”
“I’m not leaving it behind,” she said calmly. “I’m just not staying in it.”
That difference mattered.
To her.
Maybe not to him.
“You could’ve stayed,” he said.
“I could’ve,” she agreed.
“But I don’t want this to be my normal.”
That was the truth.
Clear.
Unapologetic.
Kylan looked at her for a long moment.
Then nodded once.
“…Right.”
Too easy.
Too quick.
And for a second—
something about that didn’t sit right.
But Kiana let it go.
Because she had too much else to process.
Across the courtyard—
Ray watched.
Not obviously.
Never obviously.
Kylan walked away without looking back.
No hesitation.
No attempt to stay.
That was new.
Ray’s gaze narrowed slightly.
“You’re staring again.”
Nish stepped beside him.
“I’m observing.”
“That’s worse.”
Ray exhaled quietly. “He’s different.”
Nish followed his line of sight. “He’s adjusting.”
“To what?”
“To not being part of something he thought he was.”
Ray didn’t respond.
But his gaze didn’t shift.
Kiana found Nish later near the far edge of the estate.
He leaned against the stone wall, looking out over the land like he always did when he wasn’t thinking about anything—or thinking about too much.
“You’re leaving,” he said.
“Yes.”
“You okay?”
Simple.
Direct.
Kiana nodded. “Yeah.”
A pause.
Then—
“I just don’t want this,” she added. “The guards. The violence. People dying because they’re… here.”
Because of her.
She didn’t say that part out loud.
She didn’t have to.
Nish understood anyway.
“That’s not on you,” he said.
Kiana shook her head slightly. “It feels like it is.”
Silence settled.
Not heavy.
Just real.
“Zialia’s different,” he said after a moment. “You’ll get what you’re looking for there.”
“You’ve been?”
“Once.”
“And?”
He shrugged lightly. “Quiet. Safe.”
“That’s enough.”
Nish glanced at her.
“You think that’s all you need?”
Kiana didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
He didn’t argue.
Didn’t push.
Just nodded once.
Like he’d wait and see.
Ray found her inside.
Of course he did.
The living hall was quieter now, decorations slowly being taken down, the aftermath of celebration fading into something neutral.
“You’re leaving.”
Kiana didn’t turn. “That seems to be the update everyone got.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
She looked at him then. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
A pause.
Ray stepped closer.
Not enough to invade.
Enough to be there.
“You’re running,” he said.
Kiana frowned slightly. “No.”
“You are.”
“I’m choosing,” she corrected calmly. “There’s a difference.”
His gaze held hers.
Sharp.
Assessing.
“And what exactly are you choosing?”
“A place where I don’t have to wonder who’s going to get hurt next.”
That—
that was the center of it.
Ray’s expression didn’t change.
But something in his eyes shifted.
“You think distance changes that?” he asked.
“I think it changes what I have to live with every day.”
Silence stretched.
Then—
“I meant what I said,” he added. “About Kylan.”
Kiana’s expression cooled slightly. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I’m not deciding. I’m telling you.”
“That’s the same thing.”
A beat.
Then she added—
“I can decide who I trust.”
Ray held her gaze.
Longer this time.
Like he wanted to say more.
Didn’t.
“Zialia won’t be as disconnected as you think,” he said finally.
“I’m not expecting perfect,” Kiana replied. “Just better.”
That was enough for her.
It wasn’t for him.
But he didn’t argue.
Didn’t push.
Just—
stepped back.
“Fine.”
Controlled.
As always.
By night, everything was set.
Zialia.
Wanopy.
New firm.
A different life.
Or something close enough to it.
Kiana stood on the balcony, looking out over Saila one last time.
The city glowed the same way it always did.
Untouched.
Unbothered.
Like nothing had happened.
But she knew better now.
And that changed everything.
Behind her, the estate remained what it had always been—
steady.
watchful.
unchanged.
Because this world didn’t fall apart.
It adapted.
Quietly.
Carefully.
And as Kiana Dragos prepared to leave it—
it was already adjusting
to bring her back.
- Writer
