For a long moment, the throne room stood still.
The frost in the air, the jagged icicles on the walls, the shards of ice underfoot—it all seemed to pause, waiting for something to break.
And Ethan was waiting too.
Seraphis's cold gaze didn't waver, but he could see through her now. He had seen it the moment his warmth had touched her—the tiny fracture in her perfect, frozen mask.
She had waited. She had suffered.
And deep down, she was furious.
"Let you in?" Her voice was soft, a whisper against the howling silence. Deceptive. Dangerous. "Do you know how many have spoken those words to me, Kael'Dri?"
She spoke his true name.
Ethan didn't answer. He wanted her to continue.
Her hand, still resting against his chest, curled into a fist.
"All of them liars. All of them betrayers." Her voice didn't rise, but the walls of the castle groaned, responding to her emotions even as she fought to keep them buried.
