Marcus stepped into the mansion, the cool marble beneath his feet muffling each stride like a secret. The scent of polished wood and old books clung to the air, the faint echo of distant footsteps lost in the high ceilings. He didn’t need to search long to find his mother. Maltida was in the relaxation area, sitting perfectly straight in a velvet armchair, her long fingers tracing the rim of a glass she hadn’t yet touched. The light from the chandelier cast shadows across her face, making her look both regal and tired at once. He walked toward her, loosening his tie, his eyes moving slowly across the room, taking in the stillness. “Mom,” he said, his voice steady but with a thread of worry woven through it. “Is Arraya home?” Maltida looked up at him, her eyes unreadable, yet there was a flicker of something beneath the surface—weariness, maybe, or a heaviness she couldn’t shake. “She went out with the guards,” she said softly, her tone quiet but clipped. Marcus tilted his head slig
Last Updated : 2025-09-21 Read more