That night, Daphne got dressed quickly.
She wore a fitted top with loose trousers, something she could move in easily and boots instead of soft shoes. Her dagger was strapped high on her thigh, hidden under the fabric, exactly where Alaric had taught her to keep it.
She sat on the bed, hands folded, waiting. Her heart was racing, but she forced herself to breathe evenly.
Then the window opened.
The Architect stepped inside like he'd done it a hundred times before.
"You're ready," he said, sounding pleased.
Daphne stood. "Yes."
Her voice remained calm, even though she felt anything but.
He walked to her and held out his hand. She hesitated just a second, then placed hers in his.
They moved quickly. Before she could think twice, he pulled her toward the window and they jumped.
The drop made her stomach lurch. She stumbled slightly, but he caught her at once.
"Easy," he said.
Daphne forced a small smile, but in her mind, she prayed.
Please be watching. Please be close.
