The courtyard remained heavy with silence. The wind that once rushed through the ruins had died, and in the stillness, every step and breath echoed like distant thunder. The argument over who would walk with Liam into the final test had grown quiet—not because they'd reached a decision, but because the weight of the choice had exhausted their voices. Everyone stood in their corners, watching Liam, watching each other, waiting for someone to blink first.
That was when her voice came again.
"I will go with him."
It was soft, yet clear—cutting through the silence like a blade through water.
All heads turned toward the queen, who stood tall and radiant now, draped in the sheer white garments that had appeared upon her transformation. There was something ethereal about her, no longer burdened by time or decay, but still carrying centuries in her eyes.
"No," Marcus said immediately, stepping forward like a boulder being dropped. "You're not going anywhere with him."
