Lucian left the corridor without looking back.
The palace around him had returned to its usual stillness—quiet servants, distant footsteps, guards pretending not to watch him too carefully—but for once, his thoughts were louder than the marble halls themselves.
Alistair apologized.
Alaric tried to.
Even Sebastian had started looking at him differently lately, quieter during conversations, more thoughtful whenever Reniel's name surfaced.
It should have felt satisfying.
Instead, Lucian felt exhausted.
Hatred had been simple. Predictable. The entire palace had already decided he was guilty long before he arrived inside it. Their suspicion came with structure. Expectations. Distance.
This?
This was worse.
Because now emotions were getting involved.
And emotions inside this palace had already ruined enough lives.
