Across the fortress, Lucien stood at the edge of the training yard's overlook, having returned from meetings with the northern scouts. Rowan approached with a quiet step, his brow arched.
"You've had them watched," Rowan said bluntly, "The new patient. The girl."
Lucien didn't turn. "I've had them observed. Petra must remain safe."
Rowan exhaled, amused. "Of course. Nothing to do with the way you've been glancing out windows more often than usual."
Lucien's jaw clenched, but his voice remained even. "He's too comfortable. Too quick to smile."
"And she smiles back."
A pause.
Lucien turned, eyes cold. "She respects her position."
Rowan gave a short nod. "But respect is not the same as devotion. Not yet."
Liora lit the final lanterns of the infirmary. Elric, still seated on his cot, was watching the flames flicker.
"Do you miss it?" she asked suddenly. "Command. Riding. Being in the thick of it?"
He nodded. "Some days. Others… I'm starting to remember what peace feels like."
