#Chapter 158: Debate Prep and Dead Ends

We hadn’t spoken in any way that mattered. Not about the truth, not about what it meant, and certainly not about what came next. Richard had accepted the council’s decision to name me joint commander without protest or hesitation, but he hadn’t looked at me, truly looked at me, since the day I found out who I was. He walked beside me only when duty demanded it, spoke to me only when protocol required it, and though his voice stayed calm, I could feel the way he avoided my presence like it burned. He was afraid of saying the wrong thing or, worse, of saying the right thing too late. And I didn’t chase him, even when my heart cracked wider every time he passed without stopping. I stayed in my apartment and followed the regimen Simon had given me with obsessive precision. It was the only thing I could control. I woke early each morning, choked down the bitter tonic, stepped into the freezing water until my breath shuddered and my skin went numb, and then sat in silence, counting inhal