She didn’t hug me.
That was the first thing I noticed. Not the way her eyes burned like a sunrise over ash. Not the soft shift in her stance. Not even the faint scent of old fire still clinging to her skin. It was the distance. The weight between us. The space that used to hold laughter and secrets, now filled with silence and judgment.
Rhaelyn stood like a blade forged too long in the flame—brittle, but still dangerous.
“I thought you were dead until the king revealed that you are at his harem,” I said again, quieter this time.
She tilted her head slightly. “I was. In every way that mattered.”
I stepped forward. One more step, and I could’ve touched her. “Rhae…”
Her arms crossed over her chest. “Don’t call me that.”
The words landed hard. I stopped moving. I felt twelve years old a
