The air was still for half a heartbeat—then Mirelle's voice snapped through it like a whip.
"So it was you, you little rat?" she hissed, pointing a trembling hand at Noir. "The one that's been crawling through the shadows, spying on me like some filthy beast?"
Noir's fur bristled, but her eyes stayed sharp, unflinching. She took a step forward, her tail swaying slowly behind her.
'You're just angry because Dad saved me before your friends could finish the job,' she said evenly, her tone laced with quiet defiance.
Mirelle froze for a moment—then laughed, a dry, broken sound. "Dad? So you've even taught your monster to talk now?"
Noel didn't flinch. "She's more honest than most humans I've met," he said coldly.
That was all it took. The facade she'd worn for years—the calm, graceful mask of the perfect wife—cracked and shattered like glass.
