[: 3rd POV :]
At their sudden revelation, both Maiya and Luke froze in place.
The words they had just spoken—slave merchants—hung in the air like a curse.
Their expressions shifted from shock to panic, brows furrowed as the chilling possibility rooted itself in their thoughts.
Luke was the first to speak, though his voice was low and strained.
"I… I didn't want to even think it, but… if that's the case, Maiya…"
He clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking.
"Then his childhood… it might've been—"
"Don't," Maiya cut him off sharply, though her voice trembled.
She shook her head, strands of hair clinging to her damp cheeks from the mist in the air.
"Don't say it, Luke. Don't even dare put it into words."
Luke stared at her, his own jaw tightening.
"Maiya, I don't want to believe it either. But if someone took him, if they didn't know who he was, and if that insignia wasn't recognised…"
"No… no, no, no…" Maiya's voice cracked, her breath growing uneven.
