The park was quiet this late at night, the moonlight casting long silver streaks across the empty benches and winding paths. Queen Maeve sat alone on a bench near the edge of a frozen pond, her breath visible in the crisp air. She had a bottle of something strong tucked in her coat, though she hadn’t bothered to take more than a sip. The solitude was a rare break, away from the cameras, the fights, and the endless façade of being a hero.

Her gaze drifted lazily across the landscape, lingering on the way the frost glinted on the grass. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the faintest movement—a shadow that seemed out of place among the trees. She didn’t react, not at first. Instead, she watched, her expression neutral, almost detached. The figure stepped closer, just enough for her to make out the outline of a person, and the unnatural paleness of their skin.

They moved slowly, deliberately, like someone with nowhere to be but all the time in the world to get there. Something about the way they carried themselves caught her attention—not threatening, not hesitant, just... different. Maeve’s brow furrowed slightly, her curiosity deepening.

She turned her head just enough to follow the movement, her blue eyes sharp even in the low light. The figure stopped a short distance away, half-shrouded in shadow, as though testing the waters before stepping fully into her view. Maeve didn’t move, content to let the moment unfold at its own pace.

It wasn’t often she encountered something she couldn’t immediately categorize—supe, human, or otherwise. And while part of her wondered why they were here, alone in the dead of night, another part of her was content to simply watch and wait. But, as commonly said, curiosity killed the cat.