Outside the Headmistress's chamber, the air felt strangely lighter.
Merlin took a slow breath, steadying his thoughts.
That encounter had confirmed two things: Morgana knew more than she was letting on…
And these "rifts" were not isolated.
He started down the marble stairs, deep in thought, when a voice called from behind him.
"Merlin!"
He turned, Elara stood near the entrance, still in her training gear, silver hair cascading down her shoulders.
Her expression shifted from relief to concern when she saw his face.
"What did she say?"
"Nothing important," he said quietly.
She frowned, stepping closer. "You're lying."
He didn't respond.
She sighed. "You do that a lot, you know. Pretend everything's fine when it's not."
A faint smile touched his lips. "Someone has to keep you from worrying."
Her ears twitched slightly at that, the faintest color rising in her cheeks.
But she didn't argue.
"Let's go," she said softly. "The others are waiting. They're worried too."
