The rift snapped shut with a final crack that left the air smelling of ozone and burnt stone. Aiden stood at the edge of the crater, chest heaving, white hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and blood. Golden eyes stared at nothing.
Fresh fracture lines glowed under the torn edges of his collar, running down both arms like cracked glass lit from inside. A thin line of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.
The Empress kept her arm around his waist longer than she needed to. Her grip was firm, fingers pressing just under the edge of his damaged breastplate.
"Lean on me," she said quietly, voice low enough that only he heard. "The troops are watching."
Aiden didn't argue. His legs felt like they belonged to someone else. Together they walked back toward the forward command tent, her amber hair brushing his shoulder with every step.
Behind them, the surviving soldiers and nobles stayed silent. Catherine's words still hung over the field like smoke.
