The palace did not wait for certainty.
It reacted.
Within minutes of the announcement, Ivanova transformed into something tighter, sharper—like a blade drawn too far and held too long. Guards flooded the corridors, boots striking marble with unforgiving rhythm. Doors were barred. Windows sealed. Orders echoed through the halls like thunder trapped beneath stone.
"He escaped?" Serena whispered, her voice barely audible as she hurried beside Ariana through the eastern corridor.
Ariana's pulse would not slow.
"He's alive," she said again, as if repeating it would make it more real. "He has to be."
"Or someone took him," Serena murmured.
Ariana shot her a look.
"No."
Serena hesitated.
"I'm only saying—if the king suspects—"
"He already suspects," Ariana cut in sharply.
The words lingered between them.
Dangerous.
Real.
Serena swallowed.
"Then we must move carefully."
"I don't have time to be careful."
"You don't have a choice."
Ariana stopped walking abruptly.
