[Lavinia's POV—Eloria City—The Market]
For a heartbeat, the world forgot how to breathe.
The merchant was still talking—complaining about the price of grain, about how hens were laying less this season—but his words faded into nothing. All I could see was him.
Haldor.
Not in armor. Not standing at attention. Not one step behind me.
Just… a man.
Plain clothes. Rolled sleeves. A small coin pouch in his hand. Eggs cradled carefully, deliberately, like something fragile that mattered. He looked thinner. Tired in a way that had nothing to do with battle. The kind of exhaustion that comes from thinking too much, from standing at the edge of truths you don't know how to touch.
"Your… Highness?" he said again—softer this time, uncertain, as if the title itself might crack between his teeth.
I stepped forward before reason could stop me.
