'I guess I was right…'
Damien's fingers stilled around the stem of his cup, the faintest vibration running through the glass before he released it. The smirk lingered—but behind it, the bitterness was starting to pool.
'This wasn't how it was supposed to go.'
He hadn't wanted to play this card. Not now. Not like this. Especially not in front of them.
He had planned everything else—Cradle, the Academy, the small calculated displays of competence—but not this. The "future" lie had been a last resort, something to hold in his back pocket for the day he truly needed it. And yet, when Erin Valeheart—the Black Seer herself—had stared into his soul with those eyes, cornering him, he hadn't had a choice.
If he had stayed silent, she would have kept digging.
And if she had kept digging…
He exhaled slowly, the thought heavy.
'She would've found it. The fracture.'
