After the grueling hours of the council, Astria's steps felt heavy.
As she reached the massive doors of her private sanctuary, the two sentries bowed in unison.
Their faces were masks of iron, yet their eyes held a profound reverence for their Queen.
Astria paused at the threshold, her voice a blend of exhaustion and a quiet, hidden anticipation.
"Has... has Len returned?" she asked softly.
The guards exchanged a knowing glance and offered a silent nod of affirmation.
Taking a steadying breath, Astria pushed the heavy royal doors open.
They glided apart without a sound, and she stepped inside.
Beyond the tall windows, the world had transformed.
The golden daylight had bled into an inky dark; night had fully claimed the sky.
And pale moonlight began to crawl across the floor.
Astria's eyes searched every corner of the room for him.
He wasn't on the sofa, nor by the window.
Then, her gaze landed on her bed.
A ghost of a smile, nearly invisible, touched her lips.
Len lay there, sprawled out in deep, peaceful slumber.
The heavy book still rested atop his chest, its wide cover veiling half of his face.
Only his closed eyes and the soft stray locks on his forehead were visible.
He looked like a tiny warrior sleeping behind the safety of his shield.
On the side table, the small bouquet of fresh flowers still breathed its scent into the room.
A fragrant testament to someone who had waited until dreams finally took him away.
Astria approached the bed with muffled steps.
The only sound in the room was the soft, rhythmic breathing of the sleeping boy.
With hands as light as a whisper, she lifted the heavy book from Len's face.
Her fingers lingered for a fleeting second, tracing the innocence.
That often remained hidden beneath his playful mask during the day.
She gathered the silken sheet from the edge of the bed and draped it gently over his shoulders.
Tucking him in with a tenderness she rarely showed.
Len stirred slightly in his sleep but didn't wake.
With a faint smile, Astria took the book and slid it back into its exact place on the shelf.
Where he had found it.
Her gaze then fell upon the small bouquet—the silent testament of Len's devotion.
She gathered the blossoms into her palms; their fragrance seemed to purify the heavy air of the chamber.
Carrying the flowers, she moved toward the sofa where a vase already stood.
She meticulously arranged Len's gift among the other blooms.
Letting them shine at the center of the arrangement.
Exhaustion finally began to pull at her.
Away from the jagged politics of the court and Ethos's grim warnings, she found a rare sanctuary here.
Taking a long, restorative breath, she reclined onto the sofa.
Her eyes remained anchored to the sleeping boy and the vibrant flowers.
Until, under the silver touch of the moon, the Queen let go of her crown for the night and surrendered to sleep.
The velvet silence of the midnight hour filled the chamber when Len's eyes slowly fluttered open.
He turned his head toward the arched window, where the full moon hung in the sky like a silver medallion.
The brilliance of the stars and the milky luminescence of the moonlight transformed the dark night into a world of haunting beauty.
For a long moment, Len remained still, mesmerized by the ethereal glow that washed over the room.
As he shifted, he felt the weight of the silken sheet draped over him.
He looked toward the sofa and saw Astria—the powerful Queen—sleeping deeply.
Her regal guard finally lowered by exhaustion.
Without making a sound, Len slipped out of the bed.
He gathered the sheet he had been sleeping under and, with a tenderness that defied his age.
Draped it gently over Astria as she lay on the sofa.
He lingered for a second, glancing at the bouquet of flowers on the table, before turning back toward the moonlight.
He padded over to the window and perched himself upon the stone ledge.
He reached out to pull the heavy curtains shut, then gripped the handles of the tall window frames, drawing them closed.
As the latch clicked into place, the room was once again sealed in safety and shadows.
But Len did not stay inside.
He gripped the outer edges of the window frame for a heartbeat and then simply let go.
Pushing himself backward into the abyss.
From the height of the third story, he plummeted through the cold night air.
Any ordinary child would have met a grim fate, but Len moved with an unnatural fluidity.
He twisted his body mid-air, finding a perfect, impossible balance.
He descended like a falling shadow and executed a perfect landing.
His feet striking the grass with barely a whisper of sound.
He absorbed the impact effortlessly through his knees and stood up straight, completely unharmed.
Under the watchful eye of the moon, Len stood in the vast, open grounds of the palace.
He took one look back at the high window and then turned toward the darkness.
Ready to vanish into the secrets of the night.
As Len opened his eyes, the innocence that usually sparkled within them had vanished.
His gaze was now void of light, pitch black as if the very essence of the night had settled in his pupils.
He took a steady breath and moved forward.
He passed by the vibrant blossoms he had so carefully plucked earlier.
But now, he gave them no more than a passing glance.
A short distance away, he paused.
His eyes flickered between the main royal path he had taken during the day.
And the looming, cold stone of the rear palace wall.
With a silent decision, Len turned away from the light.
He directed his strides toward the rear of the palace.
Reaching the shadows, he crouched low, feeling the surge of power through his limbs.
And then ascended an ancient tree with predatory grace.
He moved like a silken phantom through the branches until he reached the highest bough.
Before him stood the towering, impregnable wall of the palace.
For Len, it was merely a milestone.
With a powerful leap, he launched himself from the branch and landed squarely atop the high parapet.
He didn't cast a single glance back at the palace or the room where Astria lay sleeping.
Without a moment's hesitation, he vanished.
Leaping down into the unknown darkness on the other side.
He was free from the palace boundaries, a shadow reclaiming the night.
The moment his feet touched the uneven ground outside the palace walls, Len tilted his neck to the side.
A faint crack echoing in the midnight silence.
He rubbed the back of his neck, stretching the muscles as he let out a long, weary sigh.
"I am quite exhausted," he muttered.
His voice was no longer a child's chirp; it carried a strange depth and a chilling authority.
"I just need some open air."
There was no dense forest ahead, only a vast, desolate path stretching toward the horizon.
Len began to walk with a singular purpose, his strides steady and confident.
As he moved, he raised both hands above his head, interlocking his fingers and stretching his entire frame.
Every movement he made had the fluid, predatory grace of a wild feline.
Suddenly, his footsteps ceased.
He froze in place, without so much as a glance behind him.
The night air was freezing, but Len's voice was far colder.
"Will you stop following me?"
He directed the question into the void of the darkness.
Where an ordinary man would see nothing but shadows.
But Len's pitch-black eyes knew better.
Someone was trailing him like a ghost, and he was not pleased to have his solitude disturbed.