"Sometimes the sweetest danger is found not on the battlefield, but in the curve of a smile you swore you'd resist."
MARCUS POV
The halls of the Northern Palace always seemed too quiet after leaving Alaric's chambers. The King's presence lingered like a storm even when he wasn't there intense, commanding, exhausting. Tonight was no different. My head still throbbed with the weight of his orders, the sharp edge of his temper, and the way he spat Elias's name like it burned his tongue.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose as I descended the staircase toward the East Quarters. Duty. That was my anchor. If Alaric was going to sneak around like a wolf in the night, someone had to cover the mess he left behind. And that someone was always me.
The guards stationed outside the East Quarters stiffened when they saw me approach, their spines snapping straighter than pikes. I almost laughed. Poor pups looked like they had swallowed pinecones.
