If holding silence were an Olympic sport, Lucian Moon would have more gold than he had reasons to keep his mouth shut. And the reasons were dwindling.
River's words confirmed what the matebond had already told him. River had severed the chosen tie voluntarily. She had burned the star off her own neck, taken the full cost of the dissolution onto herself, and was now sitting in a dungeon offering the wreckage of her love life to the woman who had destroyed it.
Through the matebond: no rage. No bitterness. No satisfaction. Just the flat, exhausted grief of a woman who had made a sacrifice and was now delivering the invoice to the beneficiary.
"How touching. The selfless princess, sacrificing everything for love. Tell me, is this the part where I cry and we braid each other's hair and become the best of friends?"
