"It's nothing like that. I'm sure I must've upset the queen," Rowan muttered, refusing to meet Selene's piercing stare.
Selene's arms folded across her chest, her brow knitting tighter. "And what exactly upset her? Was helping Lyra that much of a crime?"
Rowan's jaw clenched. He closed his eyes, unwilling to relive the memory of his punishment, unwilling to give words to the weight pressing on him.
"Let's not talk about it, Selene," he said at last, his voice carrying the heaviness of defeat as he turned to leave.
"Rowan." Her voice stopped him mid-step.
"Don't lose yourself," she said softly, though her words cut like a blade. "Not everyone deserves to be forgiven."
The hunch of his shoulders deepened. Selene's glare softened when she saw it, but she didn't regret the warning. She knew Rowan wasn't the kind to fight the very people who had given him shelter—but she also knew submission to injustice could break a man just as surely as rebellion.
