The corridor fell silent again.
Too silent.
Helena didn't move.
Her instincts were sharp now—Sharpened by everything she had just walked into.
"That wasn't nothing," she said quietly.
Marcus's gaze remained fixed on the empty hallway.
"No."
A pause.
"It wasn't."
The air shifted.
Subtle.
But wrong.
Like something had already been set into motion.
Helena crossed her arms slowly.
"So… which one of your charming family members wants me dead first?"
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
That alone was enough to tell her—There were options.
"Not all of them follow the council's decisions," he said finally.
Her lips pressed together slightly.
"Of course they don't."
A pause.
"Why would anything here be simple?"
Marcus turned toward her now.
"Stay in the room tonight."
Helena frowned.
"That's not a plan."
"It's not a suggestion."
Her eyes narrowed.
"There it is again."
"What?"
"Control."
Silence.
Because this time—He didn't deny it.
"I'm not risking you walking around alone," he said.
"And I'm not hiding," she shot back.
A step closer.
"If someone's coming after me, I'd rather face it than wait for it."
Marcus's expression darkened.
"That's exactly what they want."
Helena tilted her head slightly.
"Then maybe I should give it to them."
That snapped something.
Marcus stepped closer instantly—Closing the space between them again.
"This isn't a game."
Her voice dropped.
"I know."
A pause.
"That's why I'm still standing."
Silence.
Because that—That was the truth they couldn't ignore anymore.
Before Marcus could respond—A sound echoed from deeper in the corridor.
Not footsteps this time.
A door.
Closing.
Soft.
But deliberate.
Both of them turned instantly.
Marcus moved first.
Fast.
Silent.
Helena followed without hesitation.
Down the corridor.
Past shadows that seemed to stretch longer than they should.
The door at the far end stood slightly open.
Marcus stopped just short of it.
Then pushed it open fully.
The room inside was dark.
Too dark.
Helena stepped in slowly, her eyes adjusting.
Empty.
But not untouched.
Something was wrong.
She felt it immediately.
"Marcus…"
He didn't answer.
Because he saw it too.
On the table.
A single object.
Placed perfectly in the center.
Waiting.
Helena stepped closer.
Her pulse slowed—Then spiked.
Because she recognized it.
A necklace.
Simple.
Silver.
But not unfamiliar.
Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for it.
"No," Marcus said sharply.
But it was too late.
Her fingers brushed the metal.
And everything hit at once.
A flash—Darkness.
Voices.
Screaming.
That night.
The same night.
Her breath caught violently as the memory surged—Stronger than before.
Clearer.
A room.
People.
Marcus—And someone else.
Watching.
Always watching.
Helena staggered slightly.
Marcus caught her instantly, his grip firm as he steadied her.
"What did you see?" he demanded.
Her breathing was uneven now.
"There was someone else," she said.
A pause.
"In the room that night."
Marcus's expression shifted.
Cold.
Focused.
"Who?"
Helena shook her head slightly.
"I couldn't see their face."
Her grip tightened on his arm.
"But they were there."
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Because that changed everything.
This wasn't just his family.
This wasn't just the council.
There was someone else.
Someone who had been watching from the beginning.
And now—They were close enough to leave messages.
Marcus's jaw tightened.
"They're playing with you," he said.
Helena's gaze hardened.
"No."
A pause.
"They're reminding me."
The difference mattered.
Because one meant fear.
The other—Meant war.
Helena looked down at the necklace again.
Then slowly closed her hand around it.
"This isn't random," she said.
"It never was," Marcus replied.
Silence stretched between them.
Because now—The game had changed again.
Not just power.
Not just control.
But memory.
Truth.
And someone who knew exactly how to use both.