Elena only wanted fresh air.
One quiet moment.One breath that didn't taste like strategy, restraint, or the hollow ache she was still pretending didn't exist.
The western balcony was usually empty—high above the pines, wind clean and sharp. She stepped out, hands braced on the stone railing, and inhaled deeply.
Cold. Clean. Real.
She exhaled—
And realized, with a sinking certainty that made her stomach drop, that something was wrong.
She turned. No Sentinels. Again.
She closed her eyes. Just briefly.
Of course.
Because apparently elite northern warriors were excellent at many things—combat, intimidation, synchronized walking—but less skilled at staying attached to one determined woman with a habit of vanishing.
She rubbed her temples, then straightened.
Fine. One minute. Just air.
The silence pressed in too quickly.
Not peaceful.
Watchful.
Boots sounded behind her.
Measured. Deliberate.
She turned.
The King's Envoy stood a few paces away, gold-threaded robes immaculate, hands folded loosely as if this were a planned encounter. His smile was courteous. Assessing.
Calculated.
"Lady Elena," he said smoothly. "You favor the edges of things."
Her pulse kicked hard.
"And you favor following people without permission," she replied coolly.
His smile widened. "I prefer to call it observation."
The corridor behind him was empty.
No Soren.No Kael.No steel between them.
Elena's instincts—old ones, honed in hospital corridors and crisis rooms—went very still.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"To understand you." His gaze flicked over her—not her body, but her posture, her breath, the way she held herself like someone accustomed to authority she hadn't been granted here. "The Empire has taken an interest."
Her stomach clenched.
"That's unfortunate," she said. "For the Empire."
He chuckled softly. "You misunderstand. Interest is not optional. It is… inevitable."
He stepped closer—not threateningly. Precisely.
"You arrived through the Rift," he continued. "Alive. Unmarked. Unclaimed by its usual consequences." His eyes sharpened. "That alone is extraordinary."
"I didn't do anything," Elena said. "I fell."
"Power does not require intent," he replied. "Only proximity."
The word settled heavily between them.
Power.
"You speak with soldiers," the envoy went on calmly. "You ask questions no one taught you to ask. The stones did not activate where you arrived—but they responded at the border." He tilted his head.
Elena's breath slowed.
"So what," she said carefully, "you think I'm a weapon?"
His smile thinned. "No. Weapons are designed. You are… undefined."
That was worse.
"The North does not leave undefined variables uncontained," he said gently. "For your own safety, of course."
Her spine went cold.
"Contained how?" she asked.
A pause.
"Observation. Study." His voice was silk over steel. "Relocation, if necessary. Somewhere secure. Somewhere you cannot interfere with matters you do not yet comprehend."
Imprisonment, dressed in polite language.
"I'm not going anywhere," Elena said.
He regarded her with something like pity.
"That is not a decision you will be asked to make."
He lifted a hand—not toward her face, not touching—just enough to emphasize the finality of his words.
"You are not the first woman the North has placed behind walls for the good of the realm," he said quietly. "But you may be the most important."
Fear flared—hot, sharp—but beneath it, something steadier rose.
Anger.
"I belong to no one," she said.
The envoy studied her for a long moment.
Then, softly: "We shall see."
Before she could respond, a presence cut into the space between them like drawn steel.
"Step away from her."
Elena froze. The envoy stiffened.
And out of the shadows stepped Kael. Captain of the Sentinels. Face unreadable. Eyes lethal.
His presence hit like a wall of iron.
The envoy exhaled. "Captain Kael—there is no need for—"
"You will address me properly," Kael said quietly.
His voice was low. Controlled. Terrifying.
The envoy straightened. "Captain Kael."
Kael stepped closer. The envoy stepped back.
"You were speaking with Lady Elena without escort," Kael said."That is not permitted."
The envoy opened his mouth.
Kael cut him off.
"If you choose to approach her alone again," Kael said softly,"you will answer to me, not the prince."
Silence. Absolute. The envoy swallowed hard.
"This is a political misunderstanding—"
"It is a breach," Kael replied flatly."And it ends now."
The envoy's composure cracked.
With a stiff bow, he murmured, "Captain," and retreated—fast—nearly tripping on his own robes as he escaped back inside.
Leaving Elena alone with Kael.
Elena's arms tightened around herself. "Kael," she said quietly, "if they decide I'm too dangerous… will anyone actually stop them?"
Kael did not answer at once.
That, more than anything, made her chest ache.
"There are limits," he said finally. "Even to Soren."
Her breath caught. "What does that mean?"
Kael met her gaze fully now—no evasion, no softening.
"It means," he said carefully, "that if the council deems you a risk to the realm, containment will be framed as protection. And Soren—"
He paused.
Elena's pulse thundered.
"—will be expected to enforce it," Kael finished. "Because it would come from the King."
The words landed like ice water.
"He wouldn't," she said instinctively.
Kael didn't contradict her. But he didn't reassure her either.
"He would fight it," Kael said. "In every way permitted to him."
Permitted.
"And if that wasn't enough?" Elena asked.
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then he would do what he has always done."
"What's that?"
"Carry the burden himself," Kael said quietly. "And convince himself it was mercy."
Something fractured in her chest.
Not because she thought Soren would be cruel—
But because she could suddenly see it.
A room called safe.Guards called protection.Distance framed as necessity.
All justified. All clean. All devastating.
"So even he might put me behind a door," she whispered.
Kael's voice dropped. "If the alternative were watching the Empire or the King take you… yes."
Elena closed her eyes.
She had trusted that whatever stood between her and the world—It would be him.
She opened her eyes again, steadier now.
"Then I can't wait," she said.
Kael stiffened. "Elena—"
"If they're already discussing cages," she continued calmly, "then I need answers before they decide I belong in one."
Kael studied her for a long moment. Not as a soldier. Not as a commander. But as a man recognizing inevitability.
"You are choosing a dangerous path," he said.
She gave a thin, humorless smile.
"I fell through a rift between worlds," she replied. "I think the dangerous path already chose me."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Kael nodded once.
"Very well," he said. "But if you do this—"
"I don't tell Soren," Elena finished.
Kael exhaled slowly.
"No," he agreed. "You don't."
And somewhere deep in the citadel, beyond stone and duty and unspoken rules—
The first real distance between Elena and Soren quietly took shape.