Alisha stood over the cradle, her gaze tracing the delicate pulse in the infant's neck. Her mind raced, weaving a web of lies to justify taking the child. Perhaps a sudden illness? A need for the Imperial physician's personal touch? She needed a reason that would leave no room for suspicion, a golden cage of concern to mask her lethal intent.
As her fingers brushed the silk blanket, trembling with a mix of fear and resolve, a voice sliced through the heavy silence of the nursery.
"May I ask what you are doing with my daughter, Your Majesty?"
Alisha's heart nearly stopped. She whirled around, her silks hissing against the floor, to find Kyle standing in the doorway. His shadow stretched long across the room, his expression unreadable, carved from cold stone.
