They returned to the surface in silence, but the tension followed them. Elara didn't sleep. She stared at the ceiling, wondering how many secrets Aldric still kept buried beneath his perfect exterior.
The next morning, she demanded answers.
"You didn't tell me I had the key to the Herald's prison. You let me walk into that chamber blind."
"I needed to see what you would do," Aldric replied.
"That's not guidance. That's manipulation."
"You want to lead this war? Then you must learn to act without comfort."
She paced across the chamber, boots tapping against stone. "Is that what I am to you now? A war asset?"
He said nothing.
She stopped. "Do you love me, Aldric? Or did you just choose me because my blood made me useful?"
The silence was a blade.
Finally, he said, "I chose you before I knew what you were. But I've stayed because I believe in who you're becoming."
It wasn't the answer she wanted.
But it wasn't a lie.
She nodded, cold and clear. "Then I'll become what I have to be. Even if that means becoming someone you don't control."
He reached for her, but she stepped back.