Night had settled over the refugee camp in layers.
The fires burned low now, their smoke drifting quietly into the dark as the last of the evening conversations faded into murmurs and tired laughter. Lanterns swayed gently between the tents, casting soft golden light across the paths carved through the camp.
From a distance, it almost looked peaceful.
Almost.
I slipped past the last row of tents and followed the narrow path toward the cliffs.
The wind met me halfway there, tugging at my hair and cloak like it had been waiting for me. It always felt different up here—colder, sharper, the kind of air that stripped thoughts down to their bones.
Which was exactly why I always came.
The overlook was empty when I reached it.
The sea stretched endlessly below, dark water rippling under a thin band of moonlight that fractured across the waves like broken glass.
I rested my hands on the stone railing.
For a while, I just listened.
The wind.
The surf crashing against the rocks far below.
The distant sounds of the camp behind me.
My mind replayed the palace meeting piece by piece.
The king's words.
The harbor minister's fear.
The careful way the court watched every exchange like it was a game they all understood except me.
Except I did understand it.
More than they expected.
More than they probably wanted.
The king knew.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
Enough to keep Muir away.
Enough to watch the harbor closely.
Enough to warn prying eyes.
The thought settled heavily in my chest.
Because if the king really was behind the trafficking network—
Then the Water Kingdom didn't have the right ruler.
The wind shifted.
Something brushed lightly across the thread behind my ribs.
I stilled.
Raiden.
The sensation wasn't strong.
Just a flicker of awareness.
Like someone stepping quietly into a room you already occupied.
I didn't turn.
"Enjoying the view?" I said to the empty air.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the shadows behind me shifted.
He stepped out of them like they had simply decided to give him back.
No thunder.
No lightning.
Just presence.
Raiden leaned one shoulder casually against the stone pillar beside the overlook.
"You should be flattered," he said.
I turned slowly.
His dark eyes were already on me.
"I traveled quite a distance for tonight's entertainment."
I crossed my arms.
"You've been spying on me all day."
"Observing," he corrected smoothly.
"That's a polite word for stalking."
His mouth curved slightly.
"Only if you dislike the observer."
The wind tugged at his hair, lifting the dark strands away from his forehead.
He looked… relaxed.
Too relaxed.
Like the fact that he was standing in enemy territory meant absolutely nothing to him.
"Let me guess," I said.
"You came to see whether I figured it out yet."
Raiden tilted his head.
"Did you?"
I studied him for a moment.
"You already knew."
He didn't deny it.
Of course he didn't.
"Your king is sloppy," he said.
"He hides corruption behind tradition and hopes no one notices."
"He's not my king."
His eyebrow lifted.
"No?"
That irritated me more than it should have.
"You're enjoying this," I said. "Watching everything fall apart?"
"Not everything."
His gaze lingered on my face.
Just long enough to make the silence uncomfortable.
Then he pushed off the pillar.
"He insulted you."
I blinked.
"That's your concern?"
"He always did strike me as the type."
"Why?"
Raiden's expression sharpened slightly.
"Because kings rarely like being questioned by people they consider beneath them."
The way he said it made something tighten in my chest.
"He called me a gutter rat. Rude, but truthful," I said with a light laugh.
Raiden's jaw flexed.
Only for a second.
Then the moment vanished.
"Well," he said calmly.
"You do have the survival instincts of one."
I rolled my eyes.
"You're an ass."
"And you're predictable."
That did it.
I moved first.
Fast.
Not magic.
Just motion.
My hand shot toward his wrist, aiming to twist him off balance.
Raiden reacted instantly.
He caught my arm before the move even finished, pivoting sideways as my momentum carried me past him.
I twisted sharply, using the movement to try and break his grip.
He didn't let go.
Instead he stepped closer.
Much closer.
The fight that followed wasn't a battle.
It was a test.
Quick.
Controlled.
We moved across the narrow stone space of the overlook like two storms brushing past each other.
I aimed for speed.
Raiden countered with strength.
He caught my wrist once.
I slipped free.
I swept his leg.
He blocked.
The rhythm felt dangerously familiar.
Like our daily training.
"Careful," Raiden murmured as he caught my arm again.
"You're getting sloppy."
"Or you're getting predictable."
I twisted sharply, trying to slip past him—
And the next thing I knew, my back hit the stone wall beside the cliff path.
Hard.
Raiden's arm braced against the wall beside my head.
His other hand pinned my wrist above my shoulder.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
The wind rushed past the cliff behind us.
My pulse was suddenly very loud.
"You were saying?" he said quietly.
I glared at him.
"You cheated."
"I won."
"That's not the same thing."
His mouth curved faintly.
"Depends who you ask."
He didn't step away.
If anything, he leaned closer.
Not touching.
But close enough that I could feel the warmth of him through the cold night air.
My breathing slowed.
Not because I was calm.
Because I was suddenly very aware of how close he was.
Raiden studied my face like he was trying to read something written between the lines.
Then he asked quietly:
"What's your next move?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"You're asking me for strategy advice?"
"I'm asking whether you're about to do something reckless."
"That depends on your definition of reckless."
"Confronting the king without proof."
"I didn't confront him."
"You will."
I shrugged slightly.
"As you said earlier."
I met his gaze.
"I'm predictable."
Raiden's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You're hiding something."
"Maybe."
"Or maybe you're just enjoying watching this play out."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
He leaned closer.
The distance between us shrank to almost nothing.
My breath caught.
Raiden noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
A slow, dangerous smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"You're nervous."
"I'm not nervous."
"You stopped breathing."
"That's because you're too close."
He didn't move.
Instead he lowered his voice.
"Am I?"
The warmth of his breath brushed my lips.
Millimeters.
That was all the distance left.
For a moment—
Just a moment—
I thought he might actually kiss me.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Raiden watched the reaction carefully.
Then he smirked.
Of course he did.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"You're right. I am looking forward to seeing how 'this' plays out."
And before I could react—
The shadows behind him moved.
They swallowed him whole.
Gone.
Just like that.
I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space where he had been.
The wind rushed past the cliff edge again.
My pulse slowly returned to normal.
Eventually, I pushed away from the wall.
"Arrogant ass," I muttered.
But the truth was already clear.
Raiden hadn't come to interfere.
He had come to watch.
And now—
So would I.