Soraya's POV
The morning light spilled across the room, soft and indifferent. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint rustle of the wind against the curtains.
Ethan's side of the bed was empty. Cold.
Not that I expected anything different.
He hadn't said a single word to me last night—and I hadn't either. We'd spent the whole night sharing the same air, the same silence, without so much as a glance at each other.
I sat up, inhaling slowly, pushing down the heaviness that still lingered in my chest. Whatever he thought, I wasn't going to let him stop me from living my life. Not today.
I got up, washed, dressed for training, and tied my hair up with quick, deliberate motions. The mirror reflected a face I barely recognized—tired, yes, but determined.
When I stepped outside the palace, the early sun was bright, the air crisp with dew. I expected to see Ares—or maybe one of the guards—waiting by the usual car.
