The door had barely closed behind Malion when the room exhaled—quietly, like the chamber itself had been holding its breath under his presence.
Aurelia pressed trembling palms against the cool wall. Her heart was still beating too fast, still echoing the things she'd dared to shout at him. No one raised their voice to the Mad King. No one survived doing so without consequence.
And yet… she had.
She slid down the wall and sat on the cold polished floor, pulling her knees to her chest. Her mind felt like a storm of broken glass....shaken, sharp, impossible to touch without bleeding.
"Not yours," she whispered to herself.
The echo of her own words made her chest burn. She didn't know whether she regretted saying them… or not saying more.
A sudden noise from outside her door snapped her head up.
Muffled voices. Urgent ones.
Aurelia slowly rose and crept closer, pressing her ear to the door.
"....confirm the envoy from Welsire never returned to his quarters."
