With the tension between them peacefully resolved, Atalanta had reclaimed her usual serene demeanor. Her small, confident smile returned as she joined Hector and the others at the grand feast. The hall buzzed with the hum of celebration—the clinking of goblets, bursts of laughter, and the warm glow of torchlight reflecting off polished armor and fine fabrics.

    Atalanta also extended an invitation to Nathan.

    However, Nathan purposefully stayed apart from the revelry, standing near a shadowed alcove at the edge of the hall as he leaned against a pillar, nursing a goblet of watered wine.

    He had felt her gaze on him for a while now, an intense yet tentative observation. Kassandra.

    Remaining isolated was a deliberate choice, his way of silently signaling to her: If you want to talk, now is the time. And, eventually, the bait worked.

    Kassandra approached him with measured grace, her crimson gown trailing behind her like a flowing river of fire. The gown clung to her figure, regal yet understated, accentuating her striking presence. Despite her beauty, she was not the center of attention. Most avoided her, perhaps out of respect for her royal blood or, more likely, due to her ominous reputation. Her sharp remarks about Troy''s fate, though well-meaning, cast a shadow wherever she went.

    She never openly shared her visions of disaster but cloaked her warnings in grim remarks that others dismissed as unwelcome negativity. Her intentions were clear—to protect those she cared for—but her gift, or curse, made her a misunderstood outcast.

    "Lord Heiron," Kassandra said, her voice soft yet formal as she stopped before him. She lowered her head in a polite bow, an unusual display for someone of her status.

    "Princess Kassandra," Nathan replied, his tone neutral but acknowledging. He straightened slightly, meeting her gaze with his piercing eyes. Despite her rank, her demeanor toward him was one of respect, as though she recognized the vital role the mercenary Heiron had come to play in Troy''s survival.

    "Thank you for making time for me," she said. It was clear she had noticed Nathan''s purposeful isolation.

    "It''s fine," Nathan replied evenly, his sharp gaze never leaving hers. Truthfully, he had been curious about her behavior, her lingering glances, and her silent observations. There was a reason she had sought him out, and he intended to uncover it.

    "I saw your fight," Kassandra began, her tone sincere. "It was... impressive."

    Nathan inclined his head slightly. "It was."

    She hesitated for a moment, as though weighing her next words carefully. "I... never thought you were going to defeat him. Let alone kill him."

    "Like everyone else," Nathan replied, his tone calm but tinged with faint amusement. The skepticism of others before the fight was nothing new.

    "No, you misunderstand me," Kassandra said, her brow furrowing. "I didn''t think anyone could kill Ajax."

    Nathan''s expression shifted, his brows knitting together as her words struck a chord. There was something in her tone—an absolute certainty that made his instincts flare.

    It didn''t take him long to arrive at a conclusion. His gaze sharpened. "You saw him alive... at the end," he stated.

    Kassandra''s eyes widened, her shock unmasked for a fleeting moment. She hadn''t expected him to deduce the truth so quickly. He shouldn''t have known about her visions, yet here he stood, staring at her as if he had unraveled her secret.

    Her surprise quickly gave way to understanding. "My brother told you?" she asked, her voice quieter now, laced with an edge of vulnerability.

    But if that were true, what did it mean for Kassandra''s vision?

    Nathan''s eyes narrowed.

    "Did I really... change the future she saw?"

    Nathan was still unsure about it. The uncertainty gnawed at him, but his interest in Kassandra''s visions was undeniable. While her range was shorter than Astynome''s, her foresight seemed uncannily accurate, which intrigued him.

    "What else did you see?" Nathan asked, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.

    Kassandra hesitated, her gaze distant as if reliving the visions she had endured. "Other things, other outcomes... but I''m not sure what to believe anymore," she admitted bitterly. "I can''t blame everyone for doubting me when even I''m not certain of what I see."

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    "I believe you," Nathan replied.

    Kassandra blinked, her red eyes narrowing slightly in surprise. "Hmm?" she murmured, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

    Nathan met her gaze, his own eyes steady and sincere. "I believe you, Princess Kassandra. Entirely. I have no doubt about you. I know you wouldn''t lie about something like this."

    Her lips parted in silent astonishment, and her eyes quivered as his words sank in. How long had she waited for someone to truly believe her? Not with hollow assurances or pitying smiles, but with genuine faith? Her mother had often whispered words of support, and the temple priestesses had offered prayers for her, but she knew their assurances were laced with doubt.

    But Nathan—he wasn''t lying. She could feel the authenticity in his voice, in his steady gaze.

    "You... believe me?" she asked again, needing to hear it once more.

    "I do," Nathan said without hesitation. "So please, inform me of all your visions from now on. Don''t waste your energy explaining yourself to those who won''t believe you. Instead, tell me. I might be able to change the future."

    There was a conviction in his words that startled her. He wasn''t merely humoring her or seeking favor. He was serious—truly serious—about trusting her.

    Kassandra stared at him, her mind reeling. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek before she even realized it. For years, she had carried the weight of Apollo''s curse, the burden of being disbelieved, mocked, and dismissed. And now, in this moment, Nathan''s simple yet powerful statement had broken through her despair.

    Nathan''s brow furrowed as he noticed the tear. Glancing around quickly, he ensured no one else had seen it. The last thing he wanted was for someone to question why Kassandra, of all people, was crying—and why he might be responsible for it.

    "You have something in your eye," he said casually, stepping closer. With a gentle touch, he wiped the tear from her cheek with his finger.

    Kassandra shivered at the unexpected contact, her breath catching. The warmth of his touch lingered on her skin, grounding her in the present moment.

    Nathan pulled back, his hand dropping to his side. He didn''t pry further, respecting her unspoken boundaries. "I believe you," he repeated softly. "Don''t worry."

    And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, frozen in place.

    Kassandra watched his retreating figure, her heart swelling with emotions she couldn''t name. For the first time in years—years filled with scorn and isolation because of her curse—she felt comforted. Truly comforted. And for the first time, she dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn''t as alone as she had always believed.