Tristan's POV
"Tristan, where are you heading to with a travel bag?" Damon asked with an eyebrow arched at me.
"Duty calls, family duty."
Just as we were speaking, Aven walked in. "Where to Tristan?" he asked, looking alarmed.
"Nothing much, just stronghold and family duty," I answered with a slow smile, watching the expression on their faces.
"You know tomorrow is the talent show, right? And Damon would be performing," Aven asked, with a look of concern etched on his face.
"I would love to be there, but this is urgent, Damon. I need to attend to it."
"Well, I understand. Safe journey, Stan," Damon said.
I walked past Aven and out of the apartment. When I was out, I sighed, but it wasn't a sigh of relief; it was a sigh of anxiety.
I didn't look back at the academy gates when I left it. There was no point. If I did, I might change my mind, and I couldn't afford that kind of weakness tonight.
Duty first. Always duty first.
