"You should be careful, Rynaria," Kael warned softly. "Your presence here doesn’t go unnoticed. And the wrong eyes are always watching."

  Her pulse jumped. "What do you mean?"

  But Kael didn’t answer. He offered only a small, cryptic smile before disappearing into the crowd—calm, unreadable, vanishing like smoke.

  The rest of the day passed in a haze.

  Her thoughts refused to settle. Kael’s words, his gaze, the weight of his presence—they clung to her like mist. The town, once simple and silent, now pulsed with unspoken danger. Every corner seemed to whisper of secrets.

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  That night, Rynaria sat alone in the dim light of the abandoned house, the only refuge she had in this foreign world. The cracked walls and broken beams offered no comfort—only silence, broken by the occasional groan of old wood and the wind pressing through warped seams.

  She hugged her knees to her chest and stared at the moonlight as it filtered through fractured glass.

  Her family was miles away. Her kingdom, her people, the magic that once thrived under her command—all lost in the name of peace. She had traded her title for quiet.

  And now even that was slipping.

  She had been careful. She had stayed hidden. Kept her powers dormant. Kept herself invisible.

  But Kael Thornridge…

  He didn’t just see her. He saw through her.

  She didn’t understand why he sought her out, why his words carried weight beyond curiosity. He didn’t feel like an enemy. But he wasn’t an ally either.

  And that made him dangerous.

  She needed to leave. She knew that. Every instinct screamed it. But the idea of leaving—of walking away without understanding what Kael wanted—gnawed at her.

  The next morning, Rynaria pulled her cloak tight and stepped into the street. The town stirred gently, unaware of the storm brewing in her chest.

  She needed supplies. She needed clarity. She needed control.

  And she knew Kael would be waiting.