The doors to the Empress's private wing opened quietly.
Marcus had been leaning against the stone wall across from them for nearly half an hour.
He had not moved.
Not even when servants passed through the corridor.
Not even when two nobles whispered nearby before quickly falling silent at the sight of him.
Marcus Valenor was patient when he needed to be.
But patience did not mean he was calm.
His eyes had not left the door once.
So when it finally opened—
He straightened immediately.
Isolde stepped into the corridor.
For a moment Marcus said nothing.
He simply studied her.
And in that moment he saw everything.
The faint redness around her eyes.
The slight tremor in her breathing.
The way her composure looked carefully rebuilt rather than natural.
Marcus pushed himself off the wall.
He approached her slowly.
"Did she hurt you?"
The question came quietly.
Not accusatory.
Just careful.
Isolde blinked at him as if returning from somewhere far away.
