The women shifted in unison, their movements subtle and practiced, conveying a silent understanding that needed no words. They were not guards or jailers, but watchers, ever vigint.

  Noa and The Mistress took the lead at the front, their silks catching the faint light of the corridor and shimmering softly. Celeste and Marisol had already peeled away, exchanging a single meaningful look before slipping down the opposite hall toward Camille.

  That left Savina standing exactly where she was, cd in her street clothes, her jacket still draped over her shoulders, her boots pnted firmly against the cold stone floor. She lifted her chin defiantly, even as her pulse thudded loudly in her ears.

  Noa spoke first, her voice calm and grounded, the kind that asserted itself without seeking permission.

  “We’re going somewhere.”

  The Mistress's gaze held Savina steady, unblinking and intense.

  “If you come with us,” she said, “there’s no turning back.”

  There was no ceremony in her words, no overt threat, just a simple and undeniable truth.

  Savina didn’t blink in response.

  “Then let’s go.”

  The walk proceeded in quiet, not lengthy but deliberate in every step. The corridor narrowed gradually, its rough stone walls giving way to smooth marble surfaces. The air grew warmer, heavy with steam and an underlying cleanliness that permeated the space. The chamber they entered was not precisely a bath, but rather a room designed for stripping away yers, both literal and metaphorical.

  Its walls were crafted from pale stone, bathed in low and indirect light, creating a stillness that pressed inward with gentle insistence.

  Savina stopped at the center of the space.

  Noa and The Mistress moved around her slowly and unhurriedly. They did not touch her yet, but their presence alone pressed against her defenses, forming a tightening circle that felt like focus rather than a trap.

  The Mistress broke the silence at st.

  “Before you step further,” she said quietly, “answer one question.”

  Noa folded her arms across her chest.

  “What do you really want?”

  Savina scoffed, her reflex as sharp as ever.

  “To not be pyed.”

  Noa’s brow arched slightly.

  “Too te. Try again.”

  The silence that followed grew heavier, settling over them like a weight.

  Savina exhaled deeply, and her mask slipped just enough to reveal what y beneath.

  “…Power,” she admitted. “But real power. Not show. Not scraps.”

  The Mistress tilted her head thoughtfully.

  “Influence,” she asked, “or control?”

  Savina’s jaw flexed with tension.

  “Both.”

  The Mistress stepped closer, circling her now in measured, assessing strides.

  “No one gets both without giving something first.”

  Noa’s voice cut through the air, softer but sharper for its edge.

  “So what are you willing to give up?”

  Savina hesitated, her defiance cracking under the strain, though not shattering completely.

  “I don’t know yet.”

  The silence that settled afterward carried no judgment, only a quiet recognition.

  The Mistress reached forward then, her movement slow and deliberate, and slipped Savina’s jacket from her shoulders. The fabric fell away easily, pooling at her feet.

  It was not an intimate act, nor sexual in nature, but symbolic—a yer willingly removed.

  Noa stepped in next, unfastening the cuff at Savina’s wrist, which dropped to the marble floor with a quiet clink.

  The Mistress met her eyes directly.

  “You say you want power,” she said.

  A brief beat passed between them.

  “Then learn what it feels like to be seen first.”

  Savina stood at the center now, feeling lighter and more exposed in ways that transcended mere skin.

  Noa circled her again, her gaze sharp but devoid of cruelty.

  The Mistress stayed close, her voice like velvet wrapped around unyielding steel.

  “You want power?” she asked.

  “Then stop hiding behind noise.”

  Savina’s voice emerged quieter and ftter than before.

  “Because fear got me hurt once.”

  The marble surfaces carried her words like a confession, amplifying them softly.

  Noa’s tone softened in reply.

  “And fire kept people back.”

  Savina nodded once, acknowledging the truth.

  “It keeps me safe.”

  The Mistress stepped even closer.

  “It keeps you alone.”

  The words nded with clean precision, striking at the core.

  Noa spoke again.

  “Tell us something real. Something no one here knows yet.”

  Savina’s arms lowered just a fraction, and her voice cracked faintly at the edges.

  “…I don’t know what it feels like to be wanted without being useful.”

  They did not answer immediately, for they all recognized the depth of that truth.

  The Mistress reached out, touching Savina’s hand in a gesture that was gentle and grounding.

  “No one starts here knowing,” she said.

  “We came because we were needed… but we stayed because we were chosen.”

  Noa added her voice, steady and unflinching. “And if you walk this road, it won’t be because you’re broken. It’ll be because you’re ready to become unbreakable.”

  Savina blinked hard against the sting in her eyes, the tears hovering close but refusing to fall. Her whisper emerged raw and unguarded.

  “Then show me.”