Soren's smile was a masterpiece of diplomatic construction... lips curved in precisely the right degree of warmth, eyes reflecting just enough friendliness to pass inspection. But there was nothing genuine in it. Nothing soft.
"She's busy at the moment."
Five words. Casual. Dismissive. Carrying the weight of entire unspoken conversations beneath their surface.
She's not for you. She's occupied. She has responsibilities here. Back off.
Caelen heard every syllable of what wasn't said. His jaw worked, teeth grinding behind closed lips as he fought the urge to ask more.
Where is she exactly? Is she well? Is she happy? Can I see her? Please, I just need to see her face...
But he couldn't ask. Not without revealing himself completely. Not standing here with Ophelia just steps away, her pregnancy visible, his son clutching her hand.
What kind of man arrived at his friend's palace with his pregnant wife and immediately demanded to see another woman?
