Benedict's POV
The corridor stretched endlessly before me, bathed in shadows and silence. This was the hour when sensible people found their beds, when the castle settled into its nightly rhythm of rest.
I rounded the corner and froze.
She stood there like a ghost haunting the hallway. The Luna Omega. Her spine curved inward as if some invisible weight pressed down on her shoulders. When she turned toward me, moonlight caught the fresh tears streaming down her face. She attempted to compose herself, dabbing frantically at her cheeks. The effort was pitiful.
My sources had been thorough in their reports. The medic omegas were scheduled for loyalty evaluations under that spiritual fraud who dared call herself an elder. The doctor and healer should have departed by now. Yet here she remained, lingering like a persistent infection in places where she had no business being.
