I cracked the door open.
No guards.
No maids.
No Darius.
The hallway stretched before me—quiet, sunlit, deceptively peaceful.
My pulse hammered in my throat.
I stepped out.
One foot.
Then another.
Barely breathing.
The east corridor split into two paths—left toward the main hall, right toward the children's wing.
I turned right.
I couldn't escape without him.
I wouldn't survive losing him twice—not in any timeline.
My steps were silent on the marble.
Only my heartbeat echoed.
My mind replayed what the vision showed me—my death, violent and merciless. The timeline trying to coil back around me like a snake.
I won't let it.
Not again.
The children's wing glowed with warm sunlight, soft carpets, and the faint scent of lavender soaps the royal nannies loved to use. My throat thickened.
Elian.
I reached the nursery door.
Just as my hand touched the handle—
A voice behind me:
"Aria?"
My blood froze.
I turned slowly.
Darius stood at the end of the hallway.
