The Silence Before the Storm

Seraphine expected Kaelith to confront her.

She spent the morning waiting—her movements measured, her expression neutral. If he had seen her leave her chambers, if he had discovered anything, he would strike. If he was still uncertain, he would test her.

But instead, he said nothing.

Not a single mention of missing letters, of a hidden meeting, of anything that would confirm her fears.

And that unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

At supper, they sat across from each other, the candlelight casting flickering shadows on Kaelith's sharp features. His expression was unreadable, his smirk ever-present.

Watching. Waiting.

Seraphine lifted her goblet, taking a slow sip of wine. "You seem thoughtful tonight, husband."

Kaelith tilted his head slightly. "Do I?"

She smiled. "Should I be worried?"

His smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Only if you have something to hide."

A challenge. A warning.

Seraphine met his gaze evenly. "Then I suppose I have nothing to fear."

Kaelith chuckled, swirling his wine. "Then enjoy your drink, my love."

Seraphine did not let her mask slip. But inside, something twisted in her stomach.

He knows something.

And yet, he was choosing to wait.

That was more dangerous than an open accusation.