Alaric, of course, had planned everything in advance. The moment he heard of the barricade outside Lara's chamber, he'd devised a countermeasure that would make even the gods chuckle.
Poor Duke Kasmeri now stood at the door, begrudgingly dressed in Alaric's white wedding robe, nervously waving at the assembled guards. Meanwhile, the true groom had vanished from sight, slipping away with the stealth of a seasoned thief and a grin that could only belong to a man in love.
He took the long route—through the quiet gardens, past the ivy-covered walls, until he reached the rear balcony of Lara's chamber. The climb was effortless; he had designed this palace wing himself, after all. Every hidden path, every secret corridor, every window latch was etched into his memory.
When he swung himself over the balcony and landed soundlessly on the polished marble floor, a startled shriek tore through the room.
"AHHH—!" Reya's scream sliced the air like a bell.
