[Haldor's POV—Council Chamber Aftermath]
When Rey's magic dimmed, the chamber slowly returned to its natural color—cool marble, golden lantern light, and dust floating in the air like tiny ghosts.
General Luke rose to his feet.
Metal clattered softly as the last physical chains were removed, replaced by Rey's invisible noose of death.
But the moment he stood, he did something that froze the blood in my veins.
He looked at me.
Not at the Princess. Not at the magical shackles constricting his throat. Not at Osric's glare burning a hole through him.
He looked at me.
Directly. Openly. As if I were the only person standing in this room. And the expression on his face—recognition.
Raw, disbelieving, painful recognition.
Like he was staring at a ghost he never expected to see again. His lips parted slightly. His eyes softened in a way I had only ever seen on dying soldiers who finally understood something too late.
I locked my posture immediately.
