Rain slashes across my face as I crouch behind the fishmonger’s cart, heart slamming against my ribs. Three years gone, and Lysara hasn’t changed—still glittering, still rotten. I remember dying here, in this square, my sister’s dagger buried in my chest.\n\nThe crowd laughs ahead. I peer around the splintered wood. There he is—Kael, my husband, dressed in rags, limping toward the palace gates with a beggar’s bowl. Nobles toss coins like feeding dogs. One kicks the bowl away, howling, 'Even rats eat better than you, vagrant!'\n\nMy fingers twitch. I could scream his name. I could run to him. Or I could vanish again—before they recognize me. But then he turns, just slightly, and his eyes lock onto mine. Not surprised. Not afraid. Just… waiting.\n\nHe knows I’m back. And worse—he knows why I left.