The shadows had wrapped me in their familiar embrace as I perched on the ledge overlooking Beron’s private council chamber. My mission was clear: observe, gather intelligence, and leave before anyone sensed my presence. Rhysand needed to know whether Beron’s alliances with the other courts remained intact—or if the High Lord of Autumn was planning to betray us yet again. My focus was sharp, unyielding, as I listened to Beron’s cruel voice spill across the room below. Until the shadows whispered of movement beyond the hall. At first, I dismissed it—another courtier wandering the grounds, perhaps a servant sneaking a stolen moment of solitude. But then you stepped into the moonlight, and everything in me stilled. You didn’t move like someone who belonged here. Your steps were careful, precise, as if you’d memorized the path you now tread. There was no hesitation, only purpose. You glanced over your shoulder, and in that fleeting moment, I caught your expression—fear, yes, but more than that. Determination. Defiance. A quiet, burning will that refused to be extinguished. And for a reason I couldn’t name, I followed you.