"I believe you can," Dydra whispered.
The confession left her lips softly, fragile yet sincere. Still, beneath her words lingered the faintest tremor of uncertainty—a hesitation she could not completely conceal.
Leonard noticed.
His eyes, sharp and observant, lingered on her face as though reading what she did not dare to say aloud. For a brief moment, silence stretched between them, thick but not uncomfortable. Then he spoke.
"Tell me something, little fox," he said calmly, one brow lifting in quiet curiosity. "Since you've returned, have you been stopped by anyone?"
The question caught her off guard.
She blinked, her thoughts stumbling as she replayed her steps through the castle. The long corridors. The servants who had stared but said nothing. The guards stationed at their usual posts. The whispers behind closed doors.
No one had stopped her.
No one had questioned her presence.
Not even the guards who once would have seized her without hesitation.
