She did not announce herself.
She didn't need to.
I saw Aisha the moment she appeared in the corridor, walking beside Claude as if she belonged there. The guards did not stop her. The servants did not question it.
Claude's attention was entirely on her. His posture was closed, his expression unreadable, and his gaze never left her face.
That alone irritated me.
Truly, it was her.
I slowed my pace. Aisha noticed immediately.
"Rihanna," she said warmly.
Claude's eyes flicked over me briefly, as if evaluating, then returned to her.
We walked together in silence until one of his aides called him aside.
"I'll be back soon," he said to Aisha.
Not to me.
The moment he left, the air changed.
Aisha stopped. I stopped.
Her warmth vanished, not violently, but efficiently.
"He likes me more than you," she said quietly. "Don't think marriage changed that."
She stepped closer and touched my shoulder.
Fire.
The red sky.
She was on the ground, her legs broken, unable to move.
Then the explosion.
So that's how she dies.
Then why, if that's how she dies?
Daniel's sword.
And the girl beside him.
It wasn't Aisha.
I couldn't breathe.
Aisha smiled. Not kindly. "Good."
Footsteps echoed.
Her expression softened immediately, as if innocence had returned to its place.
Claude returned.
She turned to him, bright and familiar.
"You're back."
His gaze passed over me coldly and distantly, then lingered on her.
They walked forward together.
I stayed where I was.
And for the first time, I understood the truth.
Aisha had not come to take anything from him.
She had come because she already possessed it.
By the time night had fallen over the castle, I reached his door.
I hesitated once, then knocked.
After a moment, the door opened. Claude stood there, hair loose, shirt half undone, clearly just awake.
"You're awake," he said quietly.
"It won't take long," I replied. "But I can't handle this alone anymore."
I should have told someone else first. Now I had to tell the most important person. Why does this always happen like this?
It was enough. He stepped aside.
I told him some things, but not everything.
"So what I saw yesterday changed everything, and I don't know what to do."
"What did you see?" he asked.
"I can't say, but it's a lot. I don't know what to do. Can you just stay here, as company?"
"All right."
It wasn't just the vision. There was suspicion too. The wrong girl. The way Aisha's face changed when no one could see. An omen that didn't belong in any future.
Claude sat at the table, elbows on the wood, listening in silence. When her voice finally slowed and fatigue seeped into her words, he glanced at the clock on the wall.
"It's late," he said softly.
"I know," she muttered. "I just… need to think."
He nodded and lay back again, turning his face toward the wall.
Within minutes, his breathing had steadied.
I stayed.
I spread the papers on the table, following the schedule, whispering names beneath her breath. My mind ran even after her body had given up.
Near dawn, her head fell forward.
I felt that I had not slept.
Claude awoke as the room quieted.
He rose, letting his eyes adjust, and found me slumped over the table, hair spilling around my face, one hand still clutching a piece of paper.
He stood slowly, careful not to wake her.
Lifting her required no effort. She did not move as he carried her to the bed, instinctively leaning slightly toward warmth.
Claude hesitated, then lay down beside her, watching her, playing gently with her hair.