The heavy door slammed shut behind the King and the witch, the echo of it rolling through the room like distant thunder. Outside, metal scraped and boots shifted, guards taking their positions. They were alone.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of Alicia's uneven breathing and the faint, ragged pull of Nicholas's.
"A–Alicia…" he strained, his voice raw, fragile, like it cost him something just to say her name.
Alicia heard him, but refused to respond.
Her gaze stayed fixed somewhere past the wooden doors, jaw locked tight enough to hurt. Nicholas wasn't entirely to blame. She knew that much, painfully so—but he had still played a part. He had still been involved. And that was enough to build walls. She had trusted him.
"I'm… so…rry…" he breathed out, each syllable rough with pain. "But you need to—"
"Was this all a lie?"
Nicholas froze. The question cut through the air before he could finish.
