Victoria Taryn did not speak for the entire walk back to the East Wing.
The silence wasn't peaceful; it was radioactive. It was the kind of silence that preceded a volcanic eruption. Kaia walked half a step behind her sister, keeping her left hand firmly buried in the folds of her silk skirt. She could still feel the heavy, phantom weight of the Sun-Ring pressing against her skin, a terrifying brand that had sent a seismic shockwave through the royal hierarchy.
The moment the heavy oak doors of their suite clicked shut, Victoria erupted.
"Bone density!" Victoria shrieked, tearing off her lace gloves and hurling them at a velvet settee. "It is a well-documented medical fact that the aristocracy of the North possesses thicker, more robust skeletal structures! It is a sign of good breeding!"
"Victoria, please—"
