The night had a weight to it, thick and almost tangible, pressing against the white marble of the Leonidus Palace.
Aiden stepped through the grand gates, the echo of his boots swallowed by the velvet silence of corridors.
His white tunic, once flawless, now bore the subtle blemish of black hairs, faint reminders of his prior guise. The makeup, the mask, the name Lucifer—they were all gone. For now, he was simply Aiden again.
Inside, the air carried the familiar sweetness of polished wood and glowing hearths, mingling with the faint chill that seeped through the tall, arched windows.
Tanya and Akidna waited at the door. They bowed low, their faces calm but eyes alert—the eyes of those who served power but remembered when it served them, but with a hint of want, with a hint of lust.
