“I want to believe you,” I said, and I didn’t bother hiding how much it cost me to admit that. “But you’ve tricked me too many times to accept apologies at face value.”
He nodded once. “Fair enough.”
Silence stretched between us, thick with things that couldn’t be undone. There was a history of manipulation and cruelty that couldn’t be erased.
I shifted my weight, grounding myself against the stone floor.
“Why did you come to me in my sleep?” I asked. “You’ve done it before, yes, but this time felt… different.”
He hesitated, just enough for me to notice.
“I thought it was the safest place,” he said finally. “No Wards to trip or listeners to twist my meaning.”
I let out a short, humorless breath. “I’m not so sure about that.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
For a moment, I considered deflecting or telling him about the Priestess.
It would have been easier to keep it to myself, but I needed to take his statements at face value.
“I think the Priestess tried to enter,” I said quietly. “Or maybe she did. I’m not certain which is worse.”
The effect was immediate.
Gideon straightened, the casual looseness draining from him as if a string had been pulled taut. His gaze intensified, scanning the room instinctively, though we both knew the danger I was describing didn’t respect walls or doors.
“She wouldn’t risk that lightly,” he said.
“I know,” I replied. “That’s why it terrifies me.”
His jaw tightened, thoughts clearly racing ahead of the conversation.
When he spoke again, his voice had dropped, controlled and distant in a way I recognized all too well.
“Then I can’t stay.” He stared at me.
The words hit me harder than I expected.
“You just apologized,” I said. “And now you’re leaving for a world where the Priestess will undoubtedly be hunting you?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “Because if she’s probing your dreams, then proximity isn’t protection. It’s a beacon.”
“And you think running will help?” I demanded. “You’d be alone. Exposed.”
“I’ve been alone before,” he said. “I know how to survive it.”
“That’s not the same thing as being safe,” I shot back.
“No,” he agreed. “But it keeps the fire away from your door.”
I stepped closer, frustration and worry tangling in my chest.
“You’re assuming she won’t follow.”
“I’m counting on our previous shared priorities,” he replied. “She wants leverage, power, and influence. If I remove myself from the equation, she loses an angle.”
Or she finds another, a colder voice whispered in my mind, and my gaze flicked involuntarily toward the corridor that led back to my room, to where Celeste slept.
