Liam rose to his feet slowly. Nothing about this place cared whether he walked in polished or broken—it only cared that he walked forward. His eyes lingered on the glowing treasure suspended in the air above the small altar. It looked almost delicate from a distance, like a shard of frozen starlight, flickering gently as though aware of his gaze.
He turned to the queen, his jaw tight, voice low. "I'm done waiting," he said. "If the test is going to come, then let it come. I'm ready to get that thing… if you are."
The queen didn't hesitate. Her eyes remained calm, the same way an ocean looks moments before a storm breaks its silence.
"I was born ready," she said simply, standing with the same grace she always carried. She had walked this tomb a hundred times in her mind, but this was the first time with someone beside her. "But once your hands touch it, there's no turning back. Not for you. Not for me."
"I know," Liam said. "I just don't know what I'm walking into."
