Third-person POV

Electra stood still as the guards carried her father’s body away, her eyes following every slow step they took until he was no longer in sight. The sound of their boots against the floor echoed in the hall, mixing with the low murmurs of the people gathered around, but none of it seemed to reach her in a real way.

She looked like she was there, standing tall and composed, but there was something off about her stillness, something that made it feel like her mind had stepped somewhere else entirely. The only thing she had said since everything happened was a comment to Jella about how the dead could also talk, and after that, she had gone completely silent, like she had nothing else to give to the moment.

Irina stood beside her, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she tried to process everything that had just happened. Her eyes moved between the empty space where the king’s body had been and Electra’s face, searching for something, anything that made sense, but there was nothing. Electra’s expression was too calm, too empty, and that scared her more than tears would have.

Leaning in slightly, Irina lowered her voice so no one else would hear. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, her tone careful, like she was afraid that even the question might break something.

Electra turned her head slowly, her gaze landing on Irina, and then, to Irina’s surprise, she smiled. It was not a wide smile, not one filled with warmth or comfort. It was small, controlled, and completely out of place in a moment like this. It made Irina’s stomach twist instantly.

"Electra..." Irina said, her voice dropping even lower now, her brows pulling together in worry. "What’s going on in your head? Why aren’t you saying anything?"

Electra didn’t answer. She just kept that same faint smile on her face, her eyes calm in a way that didn’t match the situation at all. It was like she was looking at something far away, something only she could see, and not at the chaos unfolding around them. Irina felt a chill run down her spine as she watched her, and for a second, she didn’t even know what to say next.

"Please," Irina added after a moment, her voice a little more urgent now. "Say something. If you want to cry, then cry. Just... don’t stand there like this."

But Electra didn’t move, and she didn’t speak. The silence stayed between them, heavy and uncomfortable, and Irina was just about to reach out and grab her arm, to force some kind of reaction out of her, when footsteps approached again.

Queen Jella stepped closer, her presence annoying as always, but there was something in her expression that felt... off. It was subtle, something easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention, but Irina noticed it right away. There was a tightness in her eyes, a strange kind of focus that definitely didn’t look like grief, not like she was expecting Jella to grieve the king, but it was just off.

"The body of the girl who killed your father is about to be brought out," Jella said, her voice steady. "If you want to see her face, now would be the time."

Irina’s eyes flickered to her, her unease growing. There was something wrong with the way Jella said it, like she wasn’t just informing Electra, but almost... encouraging her. The thought made her chest tighten, and she glanced back at Electra, wondering if she had noticed it too.

But Electra didn’t react the way Irina expected. She didn’t question it, didn’t show anger, didn’t even show curiosity. She just turned her gaze to Jella and stared at her, her expression going blank again, the small smile gone now. The silence stretched for a few seconds, long enough for even Jella to shift slightly where she stood.

For the first time, Jella looked uncomfortable.

Without saying anything else, she turned away and walked back to her original spot, her posture still straight, but her steps just a little quicker than before. Irina watched her go, her mind racing, trying to make sense of the strange feeling sitting in her chest.

A moment later, the guards returned.

This time, they carried another body.

The girl.

She was smaller than Irina expected, her frame light and fragile as the guards held her between them. Her head hung slightly to the side, her hair falling over her face in messy strands. Even from a distance, it was clear that she was young, too young. Her clothes were simple, the kind a maid would wear, and there was nothing about her that looked threatening.

Irina’s eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the sight. This was the girl who had supposedly stabbed the king multiple times and then taken her own life. It didn’t make sense. Something about it felt wrong, like pieces of a story that didn’t quite fit together no matter how you tried to arrange them.

Beside her, Electra watched in silence.

Her eyes stayed on the girl as the guards carried the body across the hall, her expression unreadable once again. She didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t react in any visible way, but there was something deeper in her gaze now, something more focused. It was not the empty stare from before. It was sharper, more aware.

She watched until the body was taken out of sight, and only then did she look away.

Irina leaned closer again, her voice barely above a whisper. "What do you think?" she asked, her tone careful, but filled with quiet tension. "Does she look like someone who could do that? Stab a king... over and over... and then kill herself?"

Electra stayed silent for a moment, her eyes fixed ahead as if she were still seeing the girl in her mind. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, almost too calm, like she had already accepted something that Irina had not.

"She’s human," Electra said softly.

Irina frowned slightly, not fully understanding what she meant. "So?"

Electra turned her head just enough to glance at her, her expression still composed, still controlled. "I’m not," she continued. "So I can’t decide what a human is capable of or what they aren’t."

Irina blinked, her confusion deepening at the answer. It didn’t feel like a real answer, not to the question she had asked, and yet there was something about the way Electra said it that made it feel final, like she wasn’t going to explain further.

"But..." Irina started, unsure of how to push the conversation forward.

Electra cut her off gently, her gaze shifting back ahead. "The dead can talk," she said, repeating the same words she had said earlier, but this time, there was more weight behind them, more certainty.

Irina felt a chill run through her again as she heard it. Electra’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile once more, but this time, it didn’t feel empty. It felt knowing.

"So," she added quietly, her voice steady and sure, "we’ll find out what really happened soon enough."

Irina swallowed, her eyes lingering on Electra’s face as she tried to understand what she meant, and as she stared back at her friend, she realized something clearly.

Electra wasn’t lost, she was thinking, and whatever she was thinking... it didn’t feel like it would end well for someone.