Noor sat alone on the palace roof, Riven emerged from the shadows, unseen and silent. The wind tugged at her hair as she stared up at the moon--distant, lost, and heartbreakingly still.
Rivan watched her with that same look he always wore, a mix of annoyance and something darker. He didn't bother hiding his presence. He wanted her to know he was there.
He approached slowly, each step deliberate.
She didn't look at him. Didn't speak.
Typical.
He stopped just behind her, arms crossed, voice flat.
"Funny," he said, eyes on the back of her head. "I always thought royalty had better things to do than sulk in the dark."
Noor didn't turn. Her voice came out calm, but laced with quiet venom.
"And I thought shadows like you knew when they weren't wanted."
Riven's jaw twitched, just barely. He let the silence stretch a second too long, then stepped closer—close enough for her to feel the heat of him at her back.
"Touché," he said, lips curling into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Still hiding behind silk and silence, I see."
Noor's grip on her wrapped arm tightened.
"Better than living in shame and guilt of the sins you made in your past lives."
Rivan clenched his jaw.
"Is that what Irene told you?" he said coldly. "That demons are just sinners with no control? Poor, cursed things? You believe that?"
He stepped into the moonlight, the sharp lines of his face catching silver.
"We weren't born monsters, Noor. We were made into them. Shaped. Twisted. Lied to."
"Just like you."
Noor's grip on her arm tightened until her nails dug into the cloth. His voice sent a shiver down her spine but then she spun to face him, eyes burning.
"I'm nothing like you!" she snapped, the words sharp enough to cut.
Riven didn't flinch. He just looked at her, calm, almost amused, like her anger proved something he already knew.
"No," he said softly. "You're worse."