She let out a quiet, teasing chuckle.
Eran's eyes glinted. "I suppose they flee so early," he said lightly. "Perhaps a kingdom needs no audience.. only loyalty."
Miyu tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing with amusement. "And you already have mine."
The words lingered in the air long after she said them. The last of the whispers from the hall faded, leaving only the echo of quiet footsteps and the faint hum of mana crystals lighting the corridor. For a heartbeat, it was only the two of them, silence threading between their breaths.
Eran pushed off from where he leaned, closing the distance between them until their shadows merged on the floor. His tone came low, threaded with that faint teasing calm only he carried.
"Just as I have yours," he said, then tilted his head slightly toward the empty corridor ahead. "Perhaps," he added, his voice lowering even further, "you have theirs too… which makes it even more fitting—a king pretending to be a weakling."
