Third POV
The palace had been in a state of constant uproar lately — rumors of a poisoning attempt on the crown prince, followed by whispers that Aurora might be carrying his child.
Loud and chaotic on the surface, yet eerily silent underneath.
Cassian knew it was Aurora's doing — a carefully constructed scheme to seize the throne and "free" him from this gilded cage. Or at least, that's what she had claimed.
But deep inside, there lingered a gnawing emptiness. As if a sliver of his soul had been carved out and discarded somewhere he couldn't reach.
Since that night, he hadn't known a single moment of restful sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, he was met not by peace, but by the haunting image of Davina's face — fierce and full of fury — as he pinned her against the cold stone floor.
That image replayed in his nightmares like a curse.
Cassian didn't understand.
