Gideon's POV
The late afternoon air was crisp as Eric and I paced the gravel path of the courtyard, finalizing guard rotations along the eastern border. My mind, as always, remained anchored five stories above us, tied to the quiet female locked away in the tower suite. Every hour that passed without a strike from Lucian's vanguard was a blessing, but the silence felt like the calm before a devastating storm.
The sharp crunch of quick footsteps on the gravel snapped my head around.
Olivia was heading straight toward us, her usual calm demeanor entirely replaced by flustered anxiety. She kept her hands stuffed into her coat pockets, her eyes darting nervously between me and her brother.
"Well," Olivia said, stopping a few feet away and letting out a heavy breath. "I may have messed up."
