The night had deepened by the time Elara finally stepped out onto the long stone balcony overlooking the forest, and the cool wind brushed gently through her hair while the moon hung pale and patient above the dark hills as if it had watched wolves suffer and survive for centuries before this fragile quiet moment had arrived.
The estate behind her remained awake yet subdued, voices softened by exhaustion while distant lanterns glowed faintly along the courtyard paths like small golden stars scattered among ancient stone and restless shadows.
She rested her hands upon the cold railing and exhaled slowly, feeling the strange unfamiliar calm that followed days of grief, arguments, and the heavy weight of leadership slowly settling upon her shoulders like a cloak she had never asked to wear.
Uff.
The word slipped from her lips in a tired breath while she rubbed her temple.
"Ridiculous," she murmured softly, though the word carried more bewilderment than anger.
