We kept walking after that.
Claude didn't look back at me again.
He just… moved forward like the conversation hadn't carved something sharp between us.
Like he hadn't just casually offered to kill a man.
Like that was normal.
It wasn't.
At least not for me.
The corridor stretched long and quiet, sunlight bleeding through the tall windows in thin, pale strips. Everything looked peaceful in that annoying way palaces always did like nothing terrible had ever happened inside these walls.
That was a lie, obviously.
Everything important always happens in places like this.
My thoughts kept circling the same thing.
At least I know what my plan is.
Kill Landon.
Gather allies so no one questions my exit.
Leave this kingdom quietly.
Live somewhere far away where no one knows my name.
No crown.
No prophecy.
No fire and rubble and whatever disaster future I saw coming.
And Eliana.
Find her.
Make sure she exists exactly where she's supposed to.
So the story doesn't break.
So Claude doesn't end up.
I stopped that thought immediately.
Nope.
Not going there.
That part is not my problem.
It will not be my problem.
Claude slowed slightly ahead of me, as if he'd been waiting for me to catch up mentally as well as physically.
He glanced back over his shoulder.
His voice came calm.
"Is something a matter, Reanna?"
I sighed before I even thought about it.
"That isn't my name and you know it."
He blinked once.
"It hasn't bothered you until now."
"It has. I've literally told you so many times."
A pause.
"You also don't call my brother the right name," he said. "So how come I have a nickname for you, but instead of you having a nickname for me, you have one for my brother?"
I frowned.
"What do you mean? I say your brother's name just fine."
Claude gave me a look.
A long one.
The kind that made me feel like I was missing something obvious.
"…Do you not realize how you pronounce it?"
"Huh?"
He exhaled slowly.
"Never mind."
He started walking again.
I stared at his back.
What is that supposed to mean?
I definitely say it right.
Probably.
Maybe.
No, I do.
I shook the thought off.
Focus.
Not important.
The important thing is.
Claude spoke again, still walking ahead.
"If it's not too much to ask… why do you want to kill Landon?"
Great.
Now he's on my case too.
I tightened my expression immediately.
"That is not of your concern—"
"I trust you," he said.
I stopped walking.
That threw me off more than it should've.
"…What?"
He didn't turn around.
Just kept walking.
Like it was nothing.
"I'll help you," he added.
Silence.
I stared at his back like it had personally offended me.
"…Why."
He slowed again.
Then finally turned halfway, enough that I could see his eyes.
Amber.
Too steady.
Too calm.
"Why don't you trust me?"
There it is again.
That question.
Like it's simple.
Like I have a clean answer tucked away somewhere.
I don't.
How am I supposed to explain this?
Hey, I saw a future where everything burns and you die in it, so I'm trying to fix reality without telling you I've seen it?
Yeah.
That sounds great.
He'd think I'm insane.
Or worse.
He'd believe me.
And that would change everything.
I forced my voice to stay even.
"Trust me. You don't need to know why I don't trust you."
Even from behind, I saw it.
The smallest stiffness in his posture.
Barely there.
But it was there.
He turned away again.
"…If you want, I can take care of Landon," he said quietly.
I froze.
"I'm the prince," he continued. "No one would question it. I can remove him."
That would be—
Convenient.
Too convenient.
Too clean.
Too easy.
My thoughts immediately started breaking it apart.
If Claude kills Landon.
Landon is gone faster.
No suspicion on me.
My exit becomes easier.
My plan accelerates.
But.
The musician's voice echoed in my head.
Removing him doesn't make the future peaceful. Only livable.
So what does that mean?
If Landon isn't the root.
Then what is he?
Or who is?
Too many questions.
Too many variables.
I rubbed my temple slightly.
This is exactly why I don't like relying on people.
They turn simple plans into complications.
Claude spoke again, quieter this time.
"I know this is out of line," he said, "but I need to know something."
I looked up.
He had stopped walking again.
This time, he was fully turned toward me.
Expression unreadable.
But his eyes weren't.
They were sharper than before.
He stepped closer.
"Those scars on your body," he said. "Who gave them to you?"
My stomach tightened.
No.
No, no, no.
Not this.
"I must know," he added. "Especially if it was that bastard Landon."
His gaze darkened.
Not mildly.
Not politely.
Fully.
Like something in him had shifted without permission.
I stared at him.
Yeah.
It was Landon.
Obviously it was Landon.
Who else would it be?
But I'm not telling you that.
Not now.
Not ever, if I can help it.
Because the moment I do.
everything changes.
Claude would stop being… Claude.
And I don't know what he becomes after that.
"Irrelevant," I said flatly.
His eyes didn't move.
I turned slightly, already deciding this conversation was over.
"This conversation is done."
I took one step away.
Then another.
Behind me, I heard nothing.
No argument.
No follow-up.
Just silence.
When I glanced back once, he was still standing there.
Watching.
Not following.
Not stopping me.
Just looking at me like I was a problem he hadn't solved yet.
I turned away fully.
Good.
Stay out of it.
That's better.
That's safer.
That's
Why does it feel worse?
I kept walking.
And I didn't look back again.