If his former master could see him now, he would bow.
So why should he care about the empire's cruelty? About the lies they fed his people, about the yoke they had borne for generations?
He doesn't even know them that well, Rattan told himself. So why would he risk everything—his safety, his future—for their sake?
"Right, my guardian?" he murmured aloud, half-expecting the familiar whisper of reassurance, that subtle warmth that sometimes stirred at the edge of his thoughts.
But this time, there was nothing.
No answer. No nudge. No presence. Just silence.
And yet, that silence spoke volumes. It was the kind that made doubt louder, the kind that left space for dangerous thoughts to grow.
He frowned, the idea creeping in uninvited: What if this was all part of the guardian's plan from the start? What if the purpose of this newfound power, this change of identity, wasn't for his own gain—but to save the people he'd long since stopped thinking of as his?
