Grace had barely cleared the edge of the garden when a familiar voice called out, breathless but warm.
"There you are."
She turned to see Prince Aedric descending the marble steps toward her, his shirt slightly askew, eyes alert with a quiet intensity that hadn't been present the day before. There was a steadiness to him now—a calm after the storm.
"I've been looking everywhere," he said, slowing as he reached her. "Jace told me you came out this way."
Grace offered a small smile. "I needed air. And space."
"I know," he said softly. "But… I'd like to show you something. If you're not too tired."
Her eyes searched his. There was no trace of the wild, haunted boy she'd first met in that cold, crumbling dungeon. No rage, no trembling madness. Only a quiet regal presence characteristic to someone as handsome and blessed as Aedric.
"All right," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Lead the way."
