Theo returned from the council meeting late in the afternoon, the weight of leadership still pressing on his shoulders. His stride was purposeful, but the fatigue in his eyes was clear. The guards at the Luna’s chamber bowed as he entered, and Rina, who had been pacing the room restlessly, immediately turned toward him.
“Dear,” she greeted with urgency, her voice carrying both relief and frustration. “There is something you must hear.”
Theo frowned at her tone and closed the door behind him. “What is it? You look troubled.”
Rina motioned for him to sit, but the agitation in her posture betrayed her calm words. Once he was seated, she began recounting the incident from that morning: Samantha’s dramatic entrance, her claims of poison, the supposed letter from Priscilla, and finally, Prisc
