Soraya's POV
The palace gates rose before us in gleaming stone and iron, torches already lit as dusk bled into night. The ride back had been heavy with silence, thick with everything left unsaid. I still clung to Alderon's back as the horses slowed, my arms loosely around his waist, my heartbeat finally steady but my thoughts anything but.
He had intended to take me straight to my quarters.
Quietly.
Without questions.
Without witnesses.
I sensed it in the way he guided his horse toward a side entrance instead of the grand steps.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
The main doors of the palace swung open.
And there he was.
The King.
Flanked by nobles and warriors in ceremonial armor, appearing as though the world itself had parted to announce him.
Alderon's body stiffened beneath me.
The guards with us halted sharply. Those who were still able dismounted at once despite their injuries. Two hurried forward to support the wounded.
