Chapter 112

Mara’s POV

Ronan returned with a stack of copied records and a new habit of leaving a room before I could ask him what he had learned in it.

He was courteous. He brought fresh coffee from Black Hollow, checked the repaired roof, and spent an hour helping me sort Elara’s pages. He remembered which page of Arthur’s codex I had wanted copied and left it beside my elbow without interrupting my work. Each act was familiar. Together they made the refuge feel staged, as though he were trying to give me one ordinary day while keeping the rest of himself elsewhere.

Beneath his careful composure, the Crown's neural feedback was tearing through his mind in violent, unpredictable surges—every pulse bringing him closer to a complete psionic collapse that left him gasping for air in the quiet hours. He wasn't hiding behind arrogance or misguided chivalry; he was fighting an ag