Sera’s pov:
I wake before the sun, the silence pressing too close to my ears. For a moment, I reach instinctively to the other side of the bed… an empty habit I don’t understand yet. My fingers brush cold, expensive sheets, and something tightens in my chest.
I sit up slowly, wrapping my arms around myself. My body feels restless, too aware of everything it doesn’t know. My father. Damien. The war everyone is pretending I’m not part of.
I dress without thinking and leave my room before anyone can stop me.
The hallway is already guarded. It always is now. Their eyes follow me—subtle, trained, afraid in a way they don’t want to admit. I nod at them and keep walking.
I need air.
The garden doors open with a soft click, and the morning greets me gently. Pale sunlight, cool air. The smell
