Athena’s POV
The courtyard erupted in murmurs, voices rising and falling in waves—shock, confusion, disbelief.
My legs threatened to give out beneath me. The weight of every stare, every whisper, pressed into my spine.
Then Varianth extended his hand.
I stared at it. His palm was steady, sure, like he didn’t doubt for a second I would take it. My chest tightened. My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear the crowd anymore.
Slowly, I placed my hand in his.
He helped me into the carriage without a word. The door closed behind us, sealing us away from everything I’d just left behind.
The ride was silent. He didn’t look at me, and I didn’t know what to say. The further we drove, the less real it all felt.
When we reached the palace gates, everything shifted.
The Royal Palace rose like a monument to power—towering white stone, high arched windows, and golden banners fluttering in the breeze. Guards in polished armor snapped to attention. Servants rushed to open the carriage door, heads bowed low, hands folded tightly.
No one asked questions. No one met my eyes.
Varianth stepped out first and walked without hesitation. I followed.
We moved through a long corridor lined with tall windows and silk-draped walls. The light from the chandeliers caught on glass cases and polished steel. Weapons. Portraits. Emblems of kings long gone.
It smelled like history. And dominance.
He stopped at a tall oak door carved with the crest of his bloodline.
“This is your room,” he said.
I turned to face him, my throat tight. “Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?”
He didn’t answer right away. He just looked at me, expression unreadable.
“Because I can.”
Then he turned and walked away.
I stood there for a moment, unsure if my legs would carry me inside. Eventually, I pushed the door open.
The room was large—too large. Warm. Clean. A fire crackled in the stone hearth, casting soft light across the space. A table near the window held a tray of food, untouched. The bed was made with silver silk sheets and enough pillows to swallow a person whole.
It was beautiful.
But it didn’t feel like mine.
None of this did.
And yet… for the first time in weeks, I wasn’t cold. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t alone.
I walked slowly to the window and pulled the curtain aside.
My breath caught.
Across the courtyard, on a high balcony, stood Emily.
She was dressed in midnight blue, her hair pulled back tight, arms folded across her chest. Her mouth was pressed into a hard line, but it was her hands that gave her away.
They were clenched into fists.
She wasn’t just watching me.
She was shaking.
With rage.