Olivia remained frozen, but her mind was anything but still; it was devouring itself. It wasn't Matthias's departure that terrified her—it was the "doubt" that had taken root in her chest like a poisonous weed. Why leave now? Was he running from something, or was he running from her?
"He took off his ring?" she whispered, the words jagged like shattered glass.
Her mind spiraled back, tearing through the veils of time. In her past life—amidst the betrayals, the wars, and the ultimate fall of their house—that ring had never left his finger.
She remembered the cold touch of the metal against her skin during their final goodbye; she remembered its glint as he walked toward the executioner's platform with a dignity that broke her heart. Even at death's threshold, he had clung to that symbol as if it were his only anchor to humanity.
So why now? she screamed internally. Why, in this life, did he choose to cast it aside?
