The words were light, but they struck harder than a confession.
And that was the moment the tension quietly detonated.
Because Ares realized something that sent a cold ripple through his chest.
He wasn't standing beside a woman rediscovering history.
He was standing beside someone who believed history still belonged to her.
His gaze drifted toward the lake again, following the direction of Lara's eyes.
The island sat in the middle of the lake like a piece of forgotten legend — cloaked in trees, distant, quiet.
Watching.
"Have you ever been to that island in the middle of the lake?" Lara suddenly asked.
"You mean, Isla," Liam supplemented.
"Yes, Isla."
There was a strange softness in her voice now. Nostalgia. Something older than memory.
Once, that small island had been far more than a sanctuary.
It had cradled Hevenfort — and her own manor, Helias, before marrying the first emperor of Azurverda.
