Night in Vireloch fell quietly, the last embers of sunset dying in bruised shades of violet and steel.
In the watchtower above the inner walls, Zareena stood alone—until a familiar footfall made her look.
Rashid Alimov, dressed not in uniform but in shadowed traveling gear, joined her wordlessly at the edge.
"You shouldn't be here," she said. But her voice lacked bite.
He gave her a sidelong look. "I've never listened well."
Below, the patrols moved like ghosts along the ramparts. The torchlight flickered in the wind.
"You've changed," Rashid said after a long pause.
"Because I no longer ask for permission?" she said, facing the frostbitten horizon.
"No," he murmured. "Because you carry the weight of it all—and never let anyone help you bear it."
She didn't answer.
A long silence.
"I remember," Rashid said, "a girl who used to sneak into the archive just to read spell diagrams. Who threw a book at me once for mocking her Latin."
"I missed on purpose," Zareena muttered.
"Mm. You always do." He turned to face her now. "But you can't miss forever, Zareena. Not with everything coming."
Their eyes met. Something unspoken passed between them. Cold steel and fire beneath.
He stepped closer. His hand brushed hers—only briefly.
"Do you feel nothing?" he asked.
She said nothing.
Their faces were inches apart. The night held its breath.
Then she looked away.
And Rashid's heart broke in silence.
He stepped back. "I see," he said. And with a slight bow, he turned and left.
Zareena stood at the edge until the wind stung her eyes and the cold finally reached her bones.
She did not cry.
But she did not move.
Now It is not time for that . she can't show her feeling now. She know it is very dangerous if other know her feeling for him