Chapter 53. The Hollow Crown

The knock came softly, like it was ashamed to disturb the silence of the sunless corridor. But it came again—firmer this time—before the door eased open with a wooden sigh.

Eren, one of the younger wardens of the Temple, stood in the frame, half-cloaked in smoke-colored robes, face pale as salt. He didn’t speak at first. That was what unsettled Adria most—Eren was rarely quiet, let alone unreadable.

She closed the tome she’d been studying—a brittle parchment ledger cataloguing pre-Divide bloodline anomalies—and gave him a look that asked, ‘Well?’

He cleared his throat. “He was there. At the Veil.”

Adria frowned. “Who?”

Eren didn’t answer immediately. His gaze darted to the shelves, then the windows, then back to her.

“Royce,” he said finally. “This morning. During the cleansing.”

Her stomach dropped. Not clenched—dropped, like a stone in a well.

“You’re sure?” Her voice was a breath, flat and sharp.

“I saw him myself. Right befor