The room felt smaller after she said it, not because the space had changed, but because the moment had. The weight of what she had almost spoken remained in the air, unfinished, waiting. Seraphina stood near the table, her hands resting against its edge, her posture steady by effort rather than instinct.
Lucien did not rush her.
He closed the door behind him and moved further into the room, his steps measured, his attention fixed on her without pressing for an answer she was not ready to give.
"You remembered something," he said.
It was not a question; it was a place for her to continue.
Seraphina nodded once. Her gaze lowered briefly before returning to him.
"Yes."
