Amberine lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence of the night weighing heavily on her. The room was dim, the only light coming from the faint embers flickering in the fireplace. She knew she needed to sleep—she wanted to sleep—but her mind wouldn't quiet. Every time she closed her eyes, his voice echoed in her thoughts.
"Yes."
That single word had haunted her since the moment he said it. She had confronted Draven, her professor, the man she had admired and hated in equal measure, and demanded to know the truth. Had he really killed her father? She had expected denial, some cold dismissal. But instead, he had looked her straight in the eyes, his gaze as sharp as ever, and answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
