(Almera POV)
The oasis did not look like a city that had just held its breath.
Water still flowed through the carved stone channels, clear and cool, catching sunlight and scattering it across walls and arches. Vendors returned to their stalls as if summoned by some shared, unspoken agreement. Children ran barefoot along the edges of the water, their laughter carrying easily in the warm air.
Yet I felt it.
The quiet beneath the calm.
Romulus walked beside me without escort close enough to be seen. Guards remained—of course—but distant, blurred into the architecture of power rather than pressing upon it. For the first time since arriving at the oasis, I felt as though the city was not watching us perform roles.
It was watching us exist.
"The city breathes again," I murmured without meaning to.
Romulus glanced at me. "Cities always do. People forget that they can."
