Sevette walked a few steps behind them at first, quiet, observant, her sharp eyes never leaving Cain and Cornelia.
At a glance, they looked like any married couple moving through a restricted hall, close enough that their sleeves brushed, their pace unconsciously matched. But the longer she watched, the more something began to itch at the back of her mind.
It was noticeable at first.
Cain walked slightly ahead, half a step, as if leading, yet every few breaths he slowed just enough to make sure Cornelia was still beside him. His body leaned toward her without fully committing.
When her arm brushed his, he stiffened for the briefest moment, then relaxed again, as though forcing himself to accept it. It was the posture of someone who wanted closeness but was actively resisting it.
Cornelia, on the other hand, seemed far too relaxed.
