That night, silence wrapped around Daphne in their chamber, broken only by the faint rustle of the curtains in the breeze.
She sat by the window, her bandaged arm resting lightly against her lap.
Her husband's voice still echoed in her ears. Mine. Always mine.
She pressed her fingers to her lips, remembering the storm in his eyes when he swore no one would touch her again.
He had meant it. She believed him. But what terrified her most was not the enemy lurking in the shadows, it was the lengths Alaric would go to protect her.
He was Regent Emperor now. Every action he took carried weight beyond himself, beyond her, beyond them. Yet when it came to her, he would burn the Empire itself if it meant keeping her safe.
If she told him the truth about the Moon Shadow, about what she knew from before… Her heart tightened. Would he still look at her the same way? Or would his jealousy twist it into something else?
