The morning sun over the Capital was a cruel, brilliant thing. It flooded the dining room of the Aldenar Manor with a clarity that felt invasive.
Verona sat in her usual place, her hands folded primly over a linen napkin. She picked at the food with her fork, her mind a chaotic loop of the night before. She could still feel the heat that had radiated from Elric's skin. She could still see the desperation in his eyes before he had practically fled from her touch.
"Brielle?" Verona called out.
"Yes, My Lady? Is the seasoning not to your liking? I can have the chef prepare a fresh tray."
"The food is fine, Brielle," Verona said, setting her fork down with a soft clink. "I was just wondering... has the Duke had breakfast? Or perhaps a tray was sent to his study? I haven't seen him this morning."
"Actually, My Lady, I haven't seen His Grace either."
Verona felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach. "I see. Thank you, Brielle."
