Alderon's POV
The palace gates closed behind us with a heavy finality, the echo of iron against stone ringing through my skull long after the sound faded.
Maria had already been taken to the palace clinic by Seraphine.
"She'll live," one of the healer had said earlier, meeting my eyes. "She's strong. Stronger than most."
Relief hit me so hard I had to brace my hand against the wall.
Alive.
That was all that mattered.
For several long moments, I stayed there, listening to the quiet rhythm of her breath through the door, my chest still tight from fear that hadn't fully loosened its grip. Only when Seraphine touched my arm did I finally step away.
"Elowen won't take kindly to finding you here," my sister murmured, her voice low but firm.
I shrugged, my gaze never leaving the door. "Let her."
Seraphine frowned, stepping into my line of sight. "Alderon. This isn't about what you want. It's about what will follow if she sees you standing guard outside another woman's sickbed."
