Sebastian POV A week changes everything and nothing at the same time. The castle has settled back into routine on the surface, servants moving through corridors with the same practiced precision, guards rotating posts like clockwork, meals arriving on time and doors opening before they are asked to move. Yet beneath that polished rhythm, tension hums through the walls like a low drumbeat that never quite fades, because every night without fail, Amara vanishes from our bed. Every single night. Not always far. Not always dramatic. But always gone. The first time after the garden, I woke to cold sheets and found her curled on the balcony floor beneath the moon, wrapped in nothing but thin silk and silver light. The second night she appeared in the library, sprawled across an ancient rug beside stacks of books she had not touched before sleep claimed her. On the fourth night, she materialized in the war room, curled beneath the long table as if hiding from a storm
Read more