Soraya's POV
The afternoon dragged on like a heavy fog.
I'd been pacing my chamber for what felt like hours, the soft rustle of my gown the only sound breaking the stillness. I couldn't sit still. Every time I tried, my thoughts clawed back to the same place—Asha.
Why was she being held?
Ethan hadn't given me a real answer. He'd just walked away, leaving me standing there like a fool, confused and angry. I replayed his face in my mind — the tension in his eyes, the way his jaw tightened before he brushed past me. He'd looked... guilty. Or maybe burdened. I couldn't tell anymore.
I stopped pacing and pressed my hands against the edge of the window, staring out at the courtyard below. The sunlight spilled across the stone path, but all I could feel was a cold ache in my chest.
Could this have anything to do with what Asha's mother said earlier?
