Eren's fingers traced the faint silver scar running along his collarbone—a memento from three nights ago when the dreams had been particularly violent. He'd woken thrashing, convinced she was fighting on the bloody fields of Thornvale. It was becoming harder to separate dream from reality.
The siblings finished their bathing in comfortable silence, each lost in private thoughts. As they made their way down the corridor toward their chambers, Eren's hand caught Naia's arm, pulling her to a halt in an alcove where tapestries muffled their voices from any passing servants.
"Don't tell Mother," Eren said firmly. "Promise me."
Naia's brow furrowed, her dark eyes searching Eren's face. "Why? What aren't you telling me, that might be dangerous?"
"Not yet," Eren whispered, glancing down the corridor to ensure they remained alone. "I need to understand it myself first. Just trust me, Naia. Please."
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