The weight of the demon killer's last words hung heavy in the air as the others exchanged relieved smiles and congratulatory words. But for me, the victory felt hollow. My mind churned with the implications of what she had said. Lydia knew. The thought gnawed at my insides, a festering wound that demanded attention.
"We need to talk," I had said to Lydia, my voice barely a whisper. She nodded, her eyes clouded with something I couldn't quite read—guilt, perhaps, or maybe fear.
The others watched us, their expressions shifting from joy to concern. Lise opened her mouth to say something, but Eileen placed a hand on her arm, shaking her head slightly. They understood this was something we needed to handle alone.
We found a quiet corner in the labyrinthine castle, far from the noise and rubble of the battlefield. The walls here were eerily silent, the only sound our footsteps echoing off the stone. I turned to face Lydia, my heart pounding in my chest.
