34

The palace descends into darkness.

In one instant, the corridors are illuminated by flickering torchlight, with the faint sound of voices resonating through the passageways. Then, everything fades into darkness.

I halt mid-stride, my body tightening reflexively.

This is not a coincidence.

Lisa.

I understand her tricks all too well, and this—this—isn't merely a minor power failure. This is management. This is control. A meticulously planned action intended to confuse, to induce weakness, to disturb.

I inhale deeply, calming myself in the heavy, oppressive quiet.

At that moment, I listen to it.

A silent breath in. A change in movement near—too near.

I whip around quickly, but before I can respond, I crash into a dense wall of muscle.

Liam.

The force hits me like a jolt, causing me to instinctively recoil. However, the area is limited, the darkness closing in, and my back hits another obstacle—a desk, perhaps? A seat? I'm unable to determine.

His voice is deep and coarse. “It's her.”

“I understand.”

My heartbeat is irregular, my senses exceptionally heightened. There isn't an exit from the room—not at this moment. The solid wooden doors that open to the corridor are tightly closed.

Caught.

Alongside him.

I place my hands on the surface behind me, centering myself, trying to stabilize my breathing. This is okay. I have encountered more difficult situations. I’ve battled my way out of tighter situations. I won't allow closeness to disturb me.

However, he speaks once more, his tone softer this time.

"You were unsure."

I become tense. “What do you mean?”

“When you rescued me,” Liam says, and even in the gloom, I can sense his gaze on me. "You paused."

I gulp tightly. "You have been poisoned." "You were close to dying."

"That does not provide a response."

I tighten my jaw, annoyance simmering beneath my skin. He understands why I paused. He is aware of what he did to me, what he took away from me, and how he abandoned me. Yet, he's still asking regardless.

The atmosphere separating us is heavy, electrified.

"I ought to have allowed you to perish." The words escape my mouth before I can hold them back, sharp and piercing.

Quiet.

An extended, intolerable silence in which the burden of it all weighs heavily upon us.

Liam then lets out a gradual, uneven breath.

"However, you did not."

I dislike that he expresses it as if it holds significance. As if it makes a difference.

I move, attempting to open a gap between us, but the space is too confined, the shadows too overwhelming. And now I can’t shift without touching him.

A cruel twist of fate—caught with the man who broke me.

Liam adjusts slightly, a gentle motion that allows warmth to glide over my arm.

And I detest it.

I detest that I experience it.

That part of me still recalls the feeling of standing near him, hearing his voice softly, and sensing how his presence filled the room before I even looked to find him.

However, this is not that time.

And I am no longer her.

I stand tall, with steel weaving into my spine. "Lisa desires us to be diverted."

Liam's voice is deeper now, harsher. "It is functioning."

I refrain from reacting to that.

The reality is?

He is correct.

The atmosphere is excessively calm. Excessively weighty.

The darkness isn’t merely the absence of light—it’s overwhelming, closing in from every direction, consuming every bit of space around us. I can hear my breath, harsh and irregular, as I

"attempt to concentrate on something besides the man who is only inches from me."

However, it cannot be done.

Since I can sense him.

Not only his presence, but also his warmth, the heaviness of it folding into the tiny area separating us. Every minor movement of his body, each gradual breath—it’s present. It’s pressing on my senses, compelling me to realize just how near we are.

And I loathe it.

This is the work of Lisa.

She didn’t disable the power to compromise the palace’s defenses. She didn’t initiate this blackout to stir disorder in the corridors. She arranged this occasion.

A moment when Liam and I—two individuals burdened by extensive history and overwhelming pain—would be compelled into a limited space with only the past separating us.

And it’s effective.

The silence lingers, heavy and intolerable, and then, within the stillness, Liam’s voice pierces the gloom like a knife.

"Do you wish you hadn’t done it?"

His voice is deep, gritty, tinged with an indescribable quality.

I gulp down. My throat feels parched.

"Which section?" I inquire, although I am already aware of the direction this will take.

A break.

Then—gentler, more subdued— “Caring for me.”

The words hit me with an intensity I don’t anticipate.

I remain still, my heartbeat pounding painfully against my chest.

I must respond right away. I ought to say yes, that I indeed regret it, that loving him was the biggest mistake I've ever made.

However, the deception will not arrive.

Because I truly understand the reality.

Caring for Liam Hart was never the error.

Placing trust in him was.

I tighten my jaw, urging myself to utter something—anything—that will pierce through

whatever this is before it constricts around my neck. However, I am unable to.

The silence extends between us, vibrating with tension, with something jagged and worn, something perilous and unuttered.

I don’t have to look at his face to feel his gaze on me, anticipating.

I dislike him for inquiring. I resent him for causing me to experience this moment after I've dedicated years to suppressing it.

I loathe that, no matter what, my body still recalls how it felt to be near him.

To listen to his voice in the shadows.

To sense, without seeing, that he was present.

The distance that separates us seems incredibly tiny. If I move, even a little, I’ll touch him. If I extend my hand, I’ll discover him immediately.

And for a fleeting, dizzying moment, I wonder—would he allow me?

Would he allow me to bridge the gap?

Am I?

My breathing has quickened, irregular and unsteady. My fingers twitch at my sides, clenched into fists, nails pressing into my palms as if the only thing that will prevent me from succumbing to the same trap I fell into years ago is pain.

However, then—

Brightness.

A quick, dazzling burst.

The lights come back on, dispelling the darkness and making us fully see each other for the first time in what seems like ages.

I’m unsure what I anticipate discovering when I look up at Liam, but as soon as our eyes connect, my stomach churns.

His face shows no emotion—his jaw clenched, his lips drawn into a narrow line. However, his gaze…

His gaze conveys it all.

Remorse. Desire. Fury.

Matters that neither of us are prepared to label.

And just like that, the instant breaks apart.

The shadows, the imposed closeness, the silent pressure between us—it vanishes entirely in the bright light of truth.

I take a step back initially, cutting the unseen bond that had connected us. I don’t waver, don’t pause, don’t allow myself to reflect on what nearly occurred in the darkness.

Due to my inability to do so.

Liam does not prevent me.

He remains silent.

And that, in some way, amplifies the issue.