The restaurant overlooked the city through smoked glass windows streaked faintly with evening rain.
Soft jazz drifted beneath the low murmur of expensive conversations while gold pendant lights reflected against polished black tabletops and untouched wine glasses. Staff moved carefully between tables with practiced quietness, the kind learned in places where powerful people preferred privacy over attention.
Galathea Brooks sat across from Cassian Vale in a dark velvet booth near the far corner of the dining room with Cael's coat draped loosely around her shoulders.
The wool still smelled like him.
That should not have steadied her as much as it did.
Cassian watched her over the rim of his whiskey glass without pushing conversation too quickly. He looked infuriatingly composed tonight. Black button-up rolled neatly at the sleeves. Silver rings catching warm restaurant light whenever he moved his hand. Calm posture hiding the tension sitting quietly beneath it.
