Cassian's Pov
Sylvia's chamber was too warm.
Not in temperature, but in familiarity. The kind that crept into one's bones if allowed. She sat near the window, idly turning a ring on her finger, watching the night beyond the glass as though it belonged to her. Perhaps, in some ways, it did.
"You disappeared from the hall," she said lightly. "They noticed."
"I expected they would," I replied. "Let them speculate."
Her lips curved, knowing. "And your wife?"
"She is tired," I said, my tone flat. Transactional. Safe.
Sylvia studied me for a moment longer than necessary.
"You always say that when you wish to end a conversation."
"I am ending it," I said, rising.
She did not protest. She never did. That was why she remained. That was why she would never be more.
As I strode back toward my chambers, my thoughts did something unfamiliar.
They drifted.
To Elowen.
Not desire. Not irritation. Curiosity.
She had looked at me earlier as though I were something sharp she had not yet learned how to hold. Afraid, yes, but not empty. There was intelligence there. A quickness. A mouth that had almost surprised me.
Almost.
When I reached the chamber, the first thing I noticed was the silence.
The second was the absence.
The bath doors stood open. Steam long gone. The room untouched. Empty.
My pulse shifted.
"Find her," I barked, summoning the nearest guard with a snap of my fingers. "Now."
The guard paled. "Y-Yes, Your Majesty."
My mind raced ahead of him.
The word formed instantly, vicious and certain. If she had fled, it would be seen as treachery. Weakness. Disobedience.
She would be punished.
The thought did not disturb me. The speed at which it came did.
The guard returned swiftly. "Your Majesty. The queen was seen in the west corridor. Speaking with Princes Alaric of Thornevale and Rowan of Eredyn."
"What were they speaking of," I asked coldly.
"Travel. Their kingdoms. The wedding, sir."
I dismissed him with a sharp gesture.
Rage followed immediately after.
Glass shattered beneath my fist. The dressing table splintered under my boot. Silk tore easily. Too easily. I welcomed the destruction. It matched the pressure building beneath my skin.
"Foreign princes?, On her first night.?"
By the time she entered, I had already decided how the conversation would go.
I let her speak just enough. Let her defend. Let her reveal.
Then I left her standing there, fear clinging to her like perfume.
The garden calmed me.
It always did.
The Blue Garden lay beneath the open sky, moonlight spilling across rare night-blooming flowers whose petals glowed faintly silver and indigo.
Water trickled through narrow channels, the sound measured and controlled. Every hedge was cut with precision. Every pat is intentional.
I sat on the stone bench and closed my eyes.
Breathed.
Then I sensed her.
She did not announce herself. Did not need to. Her presence shifted the air.
She sat beside me, careful, as though approaching a blade.
"I did not mean to embarrass you," she said quietly. "I only wanted to feel… less alone."
Something in her voice cracked.
I opened my eyes and turned toward her, reaching out before I decided to.
My hand closed around her wrist.
She gasped softly.
Then I saw it.
Blood.
Thin, bright, tracing down her skin from a shallow cut. It's likely from the glass. Likely unnoticed in her fear.
My grip loosened slightly.
And for the first time since this union began, curiosity sharpened into something else entirely.