The morning air was colder than usual. Too still. The fortress felt like it was holding its breath.

Virela didn’t walk down the hall. She glided. Her robe hung loose…black, oversized. It wasn’t hers.

Everyone knew it.

That robe belonged to him.

She wore it like a trophy.

Guards paused. Maids peeked. One even dropped a tray. Virela smiled as she passed them, her bare shoulder on display.

“Louder than the last,” someone whispered under their breath.

Virela turned slightly, ...