Days passed after the night that was never spoken of.
No one dared to mention it, yet the entire castle knew something had broken.
Valerie changed.
She still rose in the mornings, still sat at the breakfast table when the meal was brought to her chamber, still answered when spoken to. Yet everything was done in a hollow silence, as if her voice had been left behind that night and never returned with her.
She no longer held anyone's gaze for long. No longer asked questions. No longer smiled not even the small smiles she used to give Sera and Lira.
And Demian…
His anger did not explode like a storm. Instead, it seeped into the walls, making the air in the castle heavy and suffocating.
His footsteps echoed sharply through the corridors. His voice was cold and clipped. The servants bowed lower than ever before.
None of them dared to linger longer than necessary.
"Do not disturb His Grace," they whispered among themselves. "The mood is foul."
