Nevara
I knew the moment the gates opened.
Not because I saw her. Because I felt the shift.
The guards’ posture straightened. The air in the courtyard tightened, like the castle itself had drawn a breath and was holding it.
I stood at the top of the grand staircase when the car rolled in.
Jonas climbed out first.
He hopped down from the step like this was any other visit—like he hadn’t been summoned under quiet urgency. His hair was wind-tossed, his jacket half-zipped, eyes scanning the courtyard with open curiosity.
Bethany followed. Perfectly composed.
Dark coat. Heels clicking. Chin lifted just enough to suggest she believed she still had control of the narrative.
She saw me at the top of the stairs and smiled.
“Your Grace,” she called lightly as they approached. “I assume thi
