Aeliana's gaze flickered toward Lucavion, watching him carefully.
She had never seen him like this before.
Oh, she had seen his arrogance, his playful mockery, his insufferable smirks—but this?
This was different.
His presence was suffocating, his words a blade so carefully sharpened that Corvina had no choice but to recognize the cut.
And yet—
Aeliana saw it.
Even as he sat there, his expression unreadable, his voice calm, his posture relaxed—there was something off.
Something in the way his fingers rested lightly against his chin, too measured. Something in the way his smirk had faded, replaced by something too precise, too controlled.
Something in his eyes.
Aeliana had spent enough time around Lucavion to know when he was playing a role. When he was shifting pieces on the board and deciding what mask to wear.
Right now, he wasn't just intimidating Corvina.
He was masking something.
Aeliana didn't know what it was.
But she could feel it.
