[Haldor's POV—Imperial Training Hall—Moments Later]
The sound of steel vanished. Not because the knights stopped—but because I stopped hearing it.
Her words echoed once. Twice.
"I guess… I have to look for a husband for me."
The world tilted.
For a fraction of a second, I thought I had misheard. That the clang of blades or the shouts of instructors had swallowed part of her sentence. That surely—surely—those words were not meant the way they sounded.
I turned toward her slowly.
Too slowly.
She stood with her arms crossed, gaze fixed on the training floor, jaw set in that way she wore when she was bracing herself against something she hated but refused to flee from.
Calm.
Composed.
Imperial.
My chest tightened.
"A… husband," I repeated quietly, testing the word as if it might break apart if I spoke it aloud.
She nodded once.
Just once.
As if that single motion carried the weight of an empire.
