Alderon's POV
The castle woke the way it always did—measured, orderly, and utterly indifferent to the storms it hid within its walls.
I stood at the balcony outside my chambers as dawn broke over the eastern towers, hands braced against the cold stone railing. The sky burned with soft gold and pale blue, the kind of morning that promised peace even when none truly existed. Below, servants moved through courtyards in practiced patterns, guards changed shifts, banners were raised.
Life went on.
And yet, something fundamental had shifted.
Maria had been released.
The thought settled in my chest with equal parts relief and shame. Relief that she no longer sat in that dungeon, surrounded by damp stone and cruelty masquerading as justice. Shame because she had been there at all—because I had failed to stop it.
I closed my eyes briefly.
