Evelina didn't go back to her room.
Not right away.
Her steps carried her straight through the quiet halls of the eastern wing, up the familiar curved stairwell and past the painted windows that reflected shards of moonlight across the marbled floor.
Her body was still humming with tension—Zade's words looping in her mind like a slow, circling storm. She wasn't sure what she felt. Confusion? Guilt? Defensiveness? Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it.
She didn't realise how fast her heart was beating until she stepped back into Damian's chambers.
The heavy door closed behind her with a soft thud, shutting out the rest of the world. Warm firelight spilled across the stone walls, chasing away the lingering chill from her encounter with Zade.
Inside, it smelt like cinnamon tea, leather, and the faintest trace of something piney—Damian's scent.
