At first glance, the riddle appeared complicated, like a knot tied by an experienced sailor, intimidating to look at until one found the correct thread and pulled it gently.
Kiara had asked the question partly to test Gideon's intelligence, but more than that, she wanted to know whether he could remain calm when danger closed in from every direction, because in moments of crisis, wisdom was not measured by how much a person knew, but by whether his mind became sharper or more confused when the flames began to rise.
To her surprise, she had underestimated him.
Gideon did not ask for the riddle to be repeated.
He did not pace.
He did not frown dramatically.
He merely lowered his eyes and fell into silence.
For ten seconds, perhaps a little less, the prince walked forward with measured steps, the hem of his robe whispering against the marble floor, while moonlight slid over his thoughtful features.
Then he lifted his head.
"That is simple."
