Aliena first noticed it when the palace went quiet.
It was not the comfortable kind of quiet, the kind that settled after dusk when servants retreated and the corridors softened into murmurs and candlelight. This silence was sharper, humming faintly, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath.
She paused mid-step in the western hallway, one hand braced against the cool stone.
"That's… odd," she murmured.
The air felt warm. Not unpleasantly so, but unnatural, like standing too close to a hearth that had no fire. Her skin prickled, and a strange pressure gathered behind her eyes.
She pressed her fingers to her temple and laughed weakly. "You're imagining things."
She had been doing that a lot lately.
Ever since the forest. Ever since the way Sebastian had looked at her and then resolutely not looked at her afterward. Ever since the council bells had rung and the palace had shifted into something tighter, more watchful.
She took another step.
