Kaelen's POV
The safe house was different from the last one.
Marcus had been thorough about the move. New location. New entry points memorized. The old safe house was already dark and empty by the time the palace guards finished their corridor sweep. We had left nothing behind. No papers. No names. Nothing that could be traced.
I sat at the table. The letter from Elara was in my coat pocket. I had stopped taking it out. I knew what it said. I had read it enough times that the words were burned into my memory. Taking it out again would not change anything. It would only make me want to go back.
I ran the failed approach through my mind again. Not with self-recrimination. That was a luxury I could not afford. But with the cold, analytical attention of a man identifying a tactical error so he did not repeat it.
I had underestimated Lena.
