The next day, as the first hints of dawn crept across the sky, the palace grounds stirred gently.
Isaac's belongings were already prepared. Simon's were, too and with two of his companions. Despite his age, the old man moved with calm resolve, offering one final bow of gratitude to Queen Aiah before their departure.
Aiah stood beside the gate, composed and still. Her expression was as unreadable as always, but her eyes... her eyes betrayed a different story.
'Why does it feel like this again?' she thought, silently. 'It's not as if he hasn't left before.' But the tightness in her chest remained.
'This isn't fear. I'm not afraid… I just…'
She exhaled softly, brushing the thought aside. 'It's fine. He'll be fine.'
She straightened her posture, tucking her hands into her sleeves with practiced elegance, like the ruler she had become.
'Act normal. Say the right things. Don't make this difficult.'
Isaac's voice broke her thoughts.
"Tiny," he said.
