Chapter
"You wore the mask well," Leon said, voice calm, smooth as polished steel. "But even the strongest masks crack when pressed too long."
The night seemed to inhale around them. Smoke drifted lazily from the scorched stones, curling into the fractured moonlight. The soldiers, blackened by ash and fatigue, remained frozen, breaths shallow, eyes fixed. Nova's heart thumped violently in her chest, each beat echoing against the walls of her ribcage. Around them, the remnants of the burned courtyard, the blood-soaked earth, the twisted remnants of armor and weapons—all of it faded into the background.
It was just the two of them now. The king who saw too deeply, and the knight—or perhaps something more—who had spent decades hiding in plain sight.
Alina's jaw tightened, a subtle flicker of tension running through her otherwise composed figure. For a heartbeat, she seemed ready to strike, or perhaps to flee—but instead, her voice emerged, hoarse and tentative. "You knew…"
