******
Mia remained seated on the edge of Adrian's bed long after he had left.
The room was silent now. The kind of silence that pressed against the ears until it became unbearable. The only sound was the slow, sticky drip of blood hitting the polished floor.
Her gaze was fixed on the body sprawled near the door.
The Commander lay on his back, eyes wide and glassy, mouth still frozen in the shape of a scream he never truly got to finish. His sword was still embedded in his chest, angled awkwardly, his fingers curled tightly around the hilt as if even in death he hadn't fully accepted what he had done.
He had killed himself.
Because Adrian told him to.
Mia swallowed.
She had seen death before, plenty of it. She had caused much of it herself. But this was different. This wasn't a battle. This wasn't desperation.
This was obedience.
