That same night, Henry stood by the window of his study, his sharp gaze following the twelve shadowy figures as they moved through the darkness. Like whispers in the wind, they darted across the castle grounds, their forms blending seamlessly with the night. One by one, they scaled the towering walls, slipping over the battlements with ease.
One figure paused.
Even from a distance, she seemed to feel his gaze. Though the darkness veiled her features, Henry knew it was Leier. She turned her head slightly toward his window, lingering for a moment. She could not see him, yet she knew the king was there, watching. A silent acknowledgment passed between them. Then, with a small bow, she disappeared into the night.
