LOGINElara’s POVThe message doesn’t disappear.That’s the first thing I notice.It doesn’t fade like ink should. It doesn’t smudge when I run my thumb over it. It just… stays. Sharp. Intentional. Like it was never meant to be temporary.“Come back before they destroy you.”My fingers tighten slightly around the edge of the fabric it was written on. Not enough to tear it. Just enough to feel it. Ground it.Come back.Back where?And more importantly—Who thinks I’m leaving?Behind me, Nora shifts. I don’t turn immediately, but I feel her watching me. Waiting for me to say something. To explain. To react.I don’t.Instead, I fold the message once. Slowly. Precisely. Then again. Smaller. Controlled. Like I’m deciding what it becomes.“What is that?” she finally asks.Her voice is quiet, but there’s tension underneath it. Not fear. Not yet. But close.I slip the folded fabric into the inner lining of my sleeve before answering.“Nothing you need to worry about.”A pause.“That’s not an answer
Elara’s POVGenevieve doesn’t leave immediately.She lingers.That’s how I know this wasn’t just curiosity. This was a calculation.Her eyes move across the room slowly, guards, healer, Nora… then back to me. Measuring. Adjusting. Rewriting whatever plan she had before she walked in.“I should let you rest,” she says finally, her tone soft enough to pass for concern.She takes a step back.Then another.But her gaze doesn’t leave mine.Not until she reaches the door.Not until it closes behind her.And even thenIt feels like she’s still here.Watching.Waiting.The silence she leaves behind is heavier than her presence.No one speaks at first.Not the guards.Not the healer.Not even Nora.But I feel it.The shift.Something has changed again.And this time… It’s closer.“She knows something,” Nora says quietly.I don’t look at her.“Yes.”“How much?”“Enough to be dangerous.”That’s all that matters.The healer exhales slowly, stepping further back now that the immediate tension has
Elara’s POVI make it halfway down the corridor before it hits again.Not a warning this time.A break.My step falters, just once, but it’s enough. The world tilts, not violently, just… wrong. Like something inside me pulled too hard in two directions at once.I stop walking.Bad move.Stillness makes it worse.“Luna?”One of the guards notices. Of course he does. They’ve been watching too closely since the move. Not protecting, tracking.“I’m fine,” I say.My voice doesn’t betray me.My body almost does.Another wave. Sharper. Deeper. It coils low, tight, unfamiliar, and yet… not. My hand curls at my side to stop it from moving where it wants to go.Not here.Not in front of them.“Do you need the healer?” the guard asks.Too quick.Too ready.I look at him.“No.”He hesitates. That’s new. Before, they would have insisted. Now, they’re unsure. Careful. Like they don’t know what I might do if pushed.Good.Fear is finally doing its job.I move again.Slow at first. Then steady.Every
Elara’s POVThe weakness doesn’t announce itself.It slips in.Quiet. Precise.One second I’m standing—steady, controlled.The next, the ground feels… farther than it should.I don’t fall.I refuse to.My fingers press into the edge of the table, gripping hard enough to anchor me before my body decides otherwise. My breathing stays even. Measured.No one reacts.Good.But he does.Of course he does.The healer doesn’t rush. Doesn’t call attention. He just moves—subtle, calculated—stepping into my space like it’s routine, like this is something we’ve already rehearsed.Because we have.“Sit,” he says quietly.Not concerned.Not panic.Instruction.I meet his eyes before I move.There’s no question there.No curiosity.Just confirmation.He knows.And I know he knows.I sit.Slowly. Carefully.My body protests the movement, a sharp, internal pull that I bury before it reaches my face.His gaze drops—brief, controlled—then lifts again.We don’t speak about it.We don’t need to.“You’re p
Elara’s POVBy morning, something is different.I feel it before I see it.The air in the corridor is tighter, like a room where people have been talking and stopped the moment you walked in. When the door opens and I step out, the guards don’t rush me back inside.They move aside.Not fully. Not freely.But enough.That’s new.I walk past them without a word. My friend falls into step beside me, close enough that I can feel the tension in her shoulders.“Do you see it?” she murmurs.“I feel it,” I reply.People are watching.They always watched—but this is different. Before, it was curiosity. Dismissal. Quiet judgment.Now it’s something else.Measured. Careful.Respect… or fear.I don’t look directly at them. I let my gaze stay forward, my pace steady, as if nothing had changed.But everything has.A pair of servants steps out of my path too quickly, nearly colliding with each other. One of them lowers her head as I pass.“Luna,” she says softly.The title lands differently now.Not
Elara’s POV The door closes behind her.The sound is soft, but it settles something final in the room. No interruptions. No witnesses.Just her.And me.For a second, I don’t move. I let the silence stretch, let it settle into my bones, into the space between us. Genevieve stands across from me, composed as always, hands lightly clasped, posture flawless.Too flawless.People like her don’t relax. They perform.And right now… she’s waiting to see what role I’ll play.I don’t give her time to decide.“You poisoned me.”My voice is steady. No hesitation. No anger to soften it.Just truth.Her lips curve slightly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I watch closely—too closely now to miss anything. There’s a flicker there. Quick. Controlled.Interesting.“You’re going to need more than an accusation,” she says smoothly. “Especially after everything that’s happened.”I take a step forward.I feel it immediately, the shift in the air, the way her attention sharpens, the way her body prepares w







