They met at dawn.
Not by accident.
Elara stood on the eastern terrace, wrapped in a thin shawl she did not remember asking for, watching fog lift from the valley below. Regina looked peaceful from this height—stone softened by mist, roofs blurred into something almost gentle.
Almost.
She heard him before she saw him.
Not footsteps.
Presence.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," Alessandro said.
She didn't turn. "You shouldn't pretend you don't know I can't sleep."
Silence followed, weighted and careful.
He joined her at the balustrade, far enough that their sleeves did not touch. She noticed the distance immediately. Not because she wanted him closer—but because it was deliberate.
"You scared everyone last night," she said.
"I didn't intend to."
"That seems to be a pattern with you."
A corner of his mouth twitched. "You're not wrong."
She finally looked at him.
He looked tired.
