Page 110 of Salt Between the Wolves

Soren stared at the stone floor.

Several weeks of preparation meant this had not been an impulse born of grief or a moment of desperation. It meant planning.

The realization landed harder than the news itself.

"She planned it."

Kael didn't answer immediately, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter.

"Yes."

The word echoed through the corridor with a simplicity that made it impossible to ignore.

She had planned it while he attended meetings, while he led patrols, and while he convinced himself that distance was giving her space to heal. All that time, she had been preparing to leave.

"Anything else?"

Kael hesitated, only briefly, but Soren noticed.

"What?"

"Her room."

The knot inside Soren tightened.

"What about it?"

Kael exhaled.

"She didn't leave in a hurry."

For the first time since returning, genuine exhaustion crossed his face.

"Everything was organized."

The words should not have mattered, yet for some reason they did. They mattered more than the trail, more than the supplies, and more than the horse.

Everything was organized, as though she had expected this moment for a long time, thought about it carefully, and already made peace with it.

Soren looked away.

Somewhere beyond the walls, wind rattled against the fortress. Far away, through mountains and forests and snow, the bond remained quiet, present, and alive.

He had spent the entire ride back searching it for fear, danger, or regret.

Now he found himself afraid of something else entirely.

What if she wasn't afraid at all?

What if she had never felt freer?

"Where are you going?" Kael asked.

Soren started walking again, heading toward the upper levels, the eastern wing, and a door he had avoided for weeks.

"Her room."

Kael watched him for a moment and then nodded once.