Mira followed.
Not closely. Not obviously. But she followed nonetheless, slipping through corridors a few paces behind Eris, watching the way servants pressed themselves against walls as the future Empress passed. Watching the way guards straightened, hands moving instinctively toward sword hilts before recognizing who approached.
Eris didn't rush. Didn't storm through the palace like a woman about to deliver vengeance.
She simply walked.
Calm. Measured. Inevitable as winter night.
And somehow, that was more terrifying than any display of anger could have been.
Aldric, meanwhile, had made a different calculation.
The moment Eris left, he'd grabbed his papers and practically ran toward Soren's office. His emperor needed to know. Needed to be prepared for whatever was about to unfold in the eastern wing.
