The hearth in Cassian's private quarters burned with a steady, low heat, casting a warm orange glow over the room. The energy of the trial had left, leaving behind exhaustion.
Cassian stood by the hearth, slowly unbuttoning his formal military jacket. The stiff fabric, heavy with medals and silver thread, hit the velvet chair with a muffled thud. For the first time since the sun had risen, he let his shoulders drop. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Elias remained by the door. On the surface, he looked like a successful stabilizer who had just survived a political execution. But internally, his world was vibrating. The high-pitched ringing in his ears had turned into a dull, thrumming ache that pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
"You were brilliant," Cassian said softly. He didn't turn around, but his presence filled the space, a grounding weight that Elias usually leaned into.
"You were dangerous," Elias replied.
