The scorpion coin remained in Alex's palm long after the night should have ended.
Sleep never returned to him.
He sat on the edge of the bed with the curtains half-drawn, the faint grey of early morning bleeding slowly into the North Wing. The estate had begun to stir quietly beyond the corridor walls—footsteps of early staff, distant clatter of dishes from the kitchen wing—but Alex had not moved.
The metal coin felt cold.
He turned it over between his fingers again.
A scorpion carved into black steel.
Its tail curved upward like it was ready to strike.
Alex exhaled slowly.
"So you came again…" he murmured under his breath.
The balcony doors creaked softly behind him as he pushed them shut. For a moment he stood there, staring at the railing where the coin had been sitting only hours ago.
He felt watched.
The feeling crawled along the back of his neck like an invisible presence.
Alex shook his head and slipped the coin into the pocket of his robe before leaving the room.
