Three days had crawled by, each one heavier than the last. The air within the Lucron estate had turned frigid, a biting winter that had nothing to do with the season outside.
Between Mathias and Olivia, a wall of glass had been erected—invisible, yet impenetrable. They shared the same roof, the same corridors, and even the same table, yet they inhabited two different worlds. Not a single word had passed between them since that night.
The dining hall, once a place of strained civility, had become a battlefield of silence.
Every evening was a repeat of a haunting ritual. As soon as the rustle of Olivia's silk gown announced her entrance, the heavy thud of Mathias's chair against the floor would cut through the quiet like a gunshot. He never looked at her. He didn't have to; he could feel her presence in the very marrow of his bones.
