The smell hit her first.
Sweat. Iron. Something bitter that she knew only from nightmares.
Alaric stood in the doorway, hands covered in blood, his gray eyes sharp as knives.
He didn't see the crowd, didn't see Giulia.
He saw only Lina.
Lina couldn't breathe. Her heart hammered so loudly it drowned out the cheering.
With each step he took closer, the floor beneath her feet trembled.
Giulia stepped between them. "Enough. She knows nothing."
Her voice sounded mocking, but there was unease in her eyes.
Alaric's gaze remained fixed on Lina. "She does," he said quietly. "She knows enough."
His tone was calm – but it cut deeper than a scream.
---
The men in the Hall called out to him, wanting to celebrate, wanting more.
But Alaric didn't move.
He stood there, bloody, still – and the world shrank until only three people remained: Lina, Giulia, him.
"Alaric," said Giulia, hands on her hips, "you look like a zombie.
Go shower before you completely terrify my friend."
