The moment the carriage doors closed behind us and the palace lanterns faded from view, the silence inside felt strangely loud. Lysander sat across from me, posture straight, arms folded, expression unreadable except for the faint tension at the corner of his jaw. It was the kind of tension he only had when he was trying very, very hard not to pace a hole through the floor.
"It wasn't wise of you to stay behind with that many hungry wolves circling," he said, calm but edged with steel.
I shrugged, leaning against the cushioned seat. "Someone had to put them in their place."
"And you chose to do it alone."
"I wasn't alone," I said. "You were standing in the shadows. I knew you wouldn't let anything happen."
Lysander looked away, ears slightly pink. "That's not the point."
But he didn't press further. He never did when he knew I wouldn't back down. Instead, he shifted to the real reason he asked me to accompany him tonight.
