The door of the war room swung shut behind them, and Ethan rolled his shoulders, exhaling
slowly. His mind was already racing ahead—calculating possibilities, imagining beasts pouring
through shattered gates, blood splashing against white walls.
He barely got two steps down the corridor before Alina Fairwind practically flew up beside him.
"So, Ethan, hey, so what was it like fighting Vandelion, huh?" she said, bouncing on her toes as
she kept pace with him. "I heard he's so fast he can blink behind you. Did he talk to you? Did he
try to recruit you? Wait, wait—do you have a favorite snack? I'm partial to honey buns, personally."
Ethan cut her a sideways glance. "I… what?"
Alina kept talking without missing a beat. "I mean, if you fought him, you've gotta be ridiculously
strong, right? Or maybe you're just super lucky. Ooooh, are you secretly a prince? Wait—no, I bet
you're from a fallen noble house. Or a cursed bloodline. Or—"
