The sky was red, but not the same red as before.
A girl screamed. It wasn't Aisha. It couldn't be her. Darker hair. Blood on her hands.
Claude was standing too late.
Danel's sword flashed, but not where I had expected it to be.
I stumbled once and pressed myself against the wall, barely managing to keep my balance.
So she wasn't Aisha.
Or rather she wasn't only Aisha.
That was the problem.
What I had seen before hadn't been wrong.
It had been incomplete.
I kept walking.
A drunken noble laughed as I passed. When our sleeves brushed, the vision burst out, sharp and brutal. Betrayal inside the castle. A locked door. Someone praying. Someone else listening from the other side.
I couldn't breathe.
This wasn't a single trigger.
It was a chain.
And I was already standing in the middle of it.
When I returned to the castle, dawn was threatening the sky.
My hands were cold, my head ached.
Nothing felt sorted out, but one truth lodged itself more firmly than all the rest.
The future wasn't fixed.
It was shattered.
And the more I touched it, the greater the danger became.
I returned, exhausted. Defeat weighed on me more heavily than a disguise peeled away piece by piece.
A plain dress. I removed the pins and let my hair fall.
I didn't know what I was supposed to do anymore.
The room was dark. Too dark. Too quiet.
Only after closing the door did I notice the figure on the bed.
Claude.
For a moment, my mind stopped.
He was asleep in my bed.
This wasn't normal.
Sleeping without a shirt, collapsing anywhere when exhaustion overtook him—that was possible.
But not here. Never here.
I stared at him for a moment, then realized I didn't have the energy to question it and ignored him.
I crossed the room and lightly touched his shoulder.
"Claude. Go back to your room."
He shifted, but didn't open his eyes.
"No," he said quietly.
I tried again, firmer this time. "This is my bed."
"I know."
His hand lightly caught my wrist—not restraining me, just stopping me. Warm. Familiar.
"Go," I said.
He turned his face slightly toward the pillow.
"I'm too tired."
No explanation. No argument.
I exhaled, looked at him for a moment, then pulled my hand away.
"I can't believe this," I muttered.
He didn't respond. He was already asleep again.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
Just for a moment, I told myself.
Until I knew what the next step was.
I watched her slumped over the desk, her shoulders rising and falling slowly, unevenly.
Her hair covered her face, and I knew she wouldn't wake even if I shook her gently.
I carefully picked her up. She was lighter than expected, her body leaning easily into mine.
Quietly the castle was still we reached her room.
I laid her on the bed, adjusted the blanket so she wouldn't be cold.
I stayed for a moment, wrapping an arm around her.
Her calm breathing filled the space. Unguarded. Unadorned.
Morning light slipped softly through the curtains.
I blinked and froze.
Claude.
He was still there, holding her. His arm was loose but firm, his chest lightly pressed to my back.
His breathing was steady, even in sleep.
My heart pounded. My mind didn't know what to do.
I didn't move. Didn't breathe deeply.
I just existed. Frozen.
Why was he like this? Why hadn't he returned to his own bed?
I shifted slightly to glimpse his face.
Peaceful. Eyes closed. Unreadable.
Not teasing. Not angry.
Just… there.
I carefully touched him and whispered,
"Claude…"
No response.
A little stronger.
"Claude, you need to wake up."
He burrowed closer and murmured,
"Don't move."
Alright. Now I had to deal with this.
I slowly exhaled and tried to slip away without waking him.
The response was immediate. A low murmur, and his arm tightened around me.
"No," his voice was thick with sleep.
"I… have things to do," I whispered, gently pushing at his arm.
He growled softly and shifted just enough to press closer.
"Now? Already?"
"I can't stay here all day," I said, moving again.
He complained, loosening his hold just a little.
I nodded to myself, my heart beating slightly faster, and slipped away.
His gaze followed me sharp, unreadable.
And maybe… just a little possessive.
When I stepped outside the castle, the walk home felt heavy.
The palace corridors faded, replaced by the familiar weight of home.
I opened the door quietly.
The house smelled of polished wood and old papers.
But the silence wasn't comforting it felt tense, fragile.
"I'm back," I said.
No one looked right away.
My brothers sat in the living room, unfinished dinner before them, watching me.
Relief. Curiosity. Worry. And questions left unasked flickered across their faces.
I swallowed and said softly,
"I'm fine… just… tired."
They studied me for a moment, then returned to their routines.
At least here, I could pretend the outside chaos hadn't reached us.
But deep down, I knew it already had.
I stayed longer than I expected.
Emiraets stayed close, instinctively alert.
When my fingers brushed his sleeve, the vision hit hard.
Mud gripping boots. Smoke tearing through lungs.
Emiraets stood on the front line, blade cracked, armor torn, shouting orders that were swallowed by the roar of battle.
He died standing holding the line so others could retreat.
Fire.
A red sky.