[Location: Morningstar Manor, New York]
"I…"
The word cracked in my throat, half a whisper, half a confession. It wasn't like I'd rehearsed this. No thousand-year plan, no careful script. Just raw air and the silence between us, sharp as a blade.
Grayfia stood there, framed by the faint moonlight leaking through the tall windows of the manor's drawing room. Her silver hair caught the glow like spun frost. Her eyes — those impossible eyes — were watching me as though the entire universe depended on what syllable would follow.
I had faced the void. I had died. I had awakened in the body of a forsaken prince. And yet, this — this was the hardest battlefield.
Her lips parted slightly. "You…?"
It was an invitation. Or maybe a trap. With Grayfia, the line was so thin I couldn't tell.
I swallowed, forcing air back into my lungs. My tongue felt like lead, but I pushed the words out anyway. "I… don't know what I'd be right now if it weren't for you."
