As Viktor arrived back at the castle!
Even before daybreak, he felt that something was out of the ordinary.
The atmosphere in the house seemed quite different...
Too calm. Too disturbing. It was a place where no one had to live, but the walls hadn't been informed. The place appeared too clean, almost like an abandoned shack.
Viktor fixated his gaze on the indentation next to him with Lila's sleeping spot. It was cold now. Long cold.
He was still clad in the same outfit from the day before, a black t-shirt along with trousers and was also sitting on the edge of the bed.
Without a doubt, she hadn't returned.
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His phone suddenly buzzed.
It was Kirill. The King's Guard. Short. Clipped.
"We've lost control of the East."
Viktor is frozen still. "What do you mean lost?"
"Betrayed. As I said, define betrayed."
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A weapons shipment—rerouted.
The crew - once disloyal but now fiercely aligned against him.
All those fragments of instructions created a picture that felt like a garrote.
He found the war room door slightly open and, without a doubt, refrained from letting that door open.
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The place where he trudged was now a tomb.
She'd been here.
She'd seen it all and knew exactly what move to make.
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He restrained himself from leaning back on the sofa behind the desk and sitting because. The aching jaw, properly clenching myself, allowed the bones to familiarize into relaxing.
This was not Tatiana, and tricks were not from Sofia.
This was Lila.
His Lila.
The girl he had saved. The girl he had sharpened. The girl he had thought—
—was his.
But now…
Now she has slipped through his fingers with silk and blood.
And the worst part?
She hadn't even lied about it.
She hadn't begged.
She hadn't warned him.
She's simply stopped waiting for permission.
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The Sound of Rebellion
Kirill stood stiffly in the corner.
"She's gaining traction fast."
Viktor didn't speak.
Kirill shifted. "You want me to stop her?"
Still nothing.
"Boss?"
Viktor finally looked up, voice like a blade dragged across concrete.
"No."
Kirill blinked. "No?"
"I don't want her stopped."
A pause.
"I want to know why."
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What Hurts More Than Betrayal?
It wasn't the weapons.
It wasn't the East.
It wasn't the men who now whispered her name like an oath.
What hurt was that she hadn't told him.
That she had done it quietly.
Purposefully.
Like she expected him not to understand.
Like he had become the thing she was rising against.
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He lit a cigarette he didn't want, watched the smoke curl like ghosts around his hands.
Maybe this wasn't betrayal.
Perhaps this was the outcome of constructing a queen…
…only to realize too late that she was never yours to have.
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A Single Phrase. A Single Inquiry.
One Word. One Question!
The question now is: where did she go? Back in the night, she didn't hesitate or bat an eye.
His heart was beating way too fast, and all she felt like doing was standing in front of the door to his office.
"You were aware," he replied.
"Of course," she confirmed.
"You went against me."
"There's no way that's true," she said. "I acted on my own."
Her words had more power than any bullet ever could.
That landed deeper than any bullet could.
"She was prepared for battle."
"Are you planning to take everything?" he inquired.
"Do you think I should?" she shot back without an expression on her face.
"Wait, don't tell me," Lila uttered, "You were going for the head or the tail the entire time."
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And Viktor, for the first time in years,didn't know how to answer.