Mathias remained anchored in a terrifying silence, his gaze fixed upon her. Her cryptic confession of murder hung in the air—a riddle he could not unravel, for she was in no state to offer explanations.
He watched her eyes, vacant and haunting, as they looked not at him, but through him, piercing his flesh to settle upon some abyssal void. It was as if she did not see the Duke standing before her, but rather a specter from a forgotten life; a man long ago slain by the blade of her own remorse.
The agony of her absence, even as he held her, became a weight he could no longer endure. Reaching out, he caught her pallid face between his palms, forcing her gaze to meet his with desperate intensity.
"Olivia!" he commanded, his voice a jagged edge of insistence. "Look at me. Calm yourself... do you hear me?"
