The next morning came with a strange stillness. The palace felt quiet in a way that was not peace but waiting. The air carried the scent of metal and rain though the sky was dry. Lena dressed in silence and followed Elara down the corridor toward the inner courtyard. Servants moved quickly, heads bowed. The usual chatter was gone.

Elara whispered, “Something happened last night. The guards sealed the southern gate. No one knows why.”

Lena said nothing. She already felt the tremor under her feet, faint but steady, as if the ground itself was breathing.

When they reached the study, Prince Alden was there, his hands resting on the edge of the same map. He looked as though he had not slept. Shadows under his eyes, hair slightly disheveled, armor half buckled. He did not greet her. He only said, “The Gate pulsed again before dawn.”

Lena froze. “You felt it too.”

“Yes. The tremor reached as far as the river. The scholars call it a resonance event. I call it a warning.”

He motioned for her to come closer. A small crystal lay on the table, glowing with a faint blue light. “This was taken from the chamber beneath the palace,” he said. “It vibrates when the Gate stirs. Watch.”

He placed it in her hand. The light flared instantly, brighter than before. The stone almost hummed.

Alden’s eyes narrowed. “It reacts only to you.”

Lena set it down quickly. “I don’t want this. Whatever it is, it’s too much.”

“Wanting has nothing to do with it,” he said quietly. “It chose you.”

She wanted to argue but stopped herself. The light from the crystal faded again until it was only a dull glow.

The prince turned back to the map. “The Gate connects two worlds. When it weakens, echoes pass through. Sounds, sometimes visions, sometimes people.” He looked at her. “Tell me about your world.”

Lena hesitated. She hadn’t spoken of it since she arrived. “It’s noisy,” she said slowly. “Bright at night. There are lights that never go out, machines that move faster than horses, towers made of glass. People are always in a hurry, like time is chasing them.”

The prince listened without expression. “And yet you seem lonely when you speak of it.”

“I was,” she admitted. “It was busy but empty. Everyone trying to be somewhere else. I guess I was one of them.”

He nodded slightly. “Every world forgets something. Ours forgot how to stop. Yours forgot how to wait.”

Lena looked at him. “You talk like you’ve seen it.”

He smiled faintly. “My tutor once said the Gate shows reflections, not places. Sometimes people dream of the other side. I dreamed of yours once, when I was a boy.”

“What did you see.”

“A city of light,” he said. “And a girl walking alone under the rain.”

Lena’s breath caught. She remembered that night, the crosswalk, the flashing headlights. “That was me,” she whispered.

He met her eyes. “So it seems.”

For a long moment neither of them spoke. The sound of the palace outside grew distant, swallowed by the quiet between them.

Then the crystal flared again, brighter this time. It pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat. The air in the room thickened, pressing against her skin.

A voice whispered, faint but clear, inside her mind. Lena Carter. The way is not closed.

She stumbled back. The prince caught her before she fell. The light died at once, leaving the room in silence.

“What did it say,” he asked.

She hesitated. “It called my name. The same voice I heard before. It keeps repeating the same thing.”

“The way is not closed,” the prince said, finishing for her.

“Yes.”

He looked toward the window, where sunlight struck the marble. “If it is calling your name, it means the passage remembers you. That should not be possible. The Gate forgets everything it sends through.”

“Then why do I remember,” she asked.

“That is what I must find out,” he said. “If the Gate remembers, then maybe it never meant to let you go in the first place.”

The idea made her chest tighten. She didn’t know if she wanted that to be true.

Before she could answer, a loud knock broke the silence. A guard stepped in, armor wet with sweat. “Your Highness,” he said quickly, “there’s been a disturbance in the lower halls. One of the watchmen disappeared during inspection. They found only his lantern. Still burning.”

The prince’s jaw hardened. “Seal the lower entrance. Double the guard. No one goes down without my order.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

When the door shut again, Alden turned to Lena. “Do not leave your chamber tonight. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she said.

But when darkness fell and the palace lights dimmed, Lena could not stay still. She sat by the window, staring at the sky that looked almost the same as the one she had known in her own world. She could feel the faint vibration beneath her again. It came and went like a whisper, a heartbeat beneath stone.

And then, just as she closed her eyes, a flash crossed her mind—her city, her street, headlights on wet pavement. She heard her own voice echo from somewhere far away. The way is not closed.

Her eyes flew open. The crystal on her desk was glowing again. This time, it pulsed without her touching it.

And in its blue light she saw, just for a second, the shadow of someone standing behind her reflection in the glass.

Someone who looked exactly like her.