Freya wiped her dusty hands on her gown, her heart still hammering in frustration.
She had cheated. She had climbed.
She had gotten out of the damned maze — only to discover there was no real exit.
The moment she was outside, there were no cheers, no congratulatory words.
Only the cold, empty air of the castle grounds and a guard silently waiting at a distance.
Sebastian hadn't even spared her a glance.
Was this some kind of sick entertainment for him?
Freya's teeth gritted together.
She had wasted nearly an entire day. Hungry, battered, and bruised, she had walked off from the maze stubbornly without waiting for anyone's permission.
She might have looked like a defeated soldier... but in her chest, her pride burned hotter than ever.
As she neared the castle's back steps, she spotted Kael standing by, talking to a few soldiers.
When he caught sight of her — hair a mess, dress torn at the hem, her eyes blazing — he simply gave a small, almost approving nod.
"Lady Freya," he said dryly, "I hope you found the... experience enlightening."
Freya shot him a look so sharp it could have sliced through steel.
But she said nothing. Her silence screamed louder than any insult.
Kael chuckled under his breath and turned away, murmuring something to his men.
At the highest balcony, Sebastian watched everything quietly, arms crossed, his silver eyes unreadable.
A faint smirk ghosted his lips, unseen by anyone.
She was still proud. Still stubborn.
Exactly what he had wanted to see.
Without another word, Freya marched up the steps toward the room she had been given, her back straight, her spirit wounded but not broken.
Tonight, she would wash off the dirt, the frustration, and the anger.
But she would not forget.
King Sebastian owed her.
And one day, she intended to collect.