At that moment, Xarion gave a low cough from the side, breaking the charged silence.
"Mother—"
"Silence." The Old Madam did not so much as glance in his direction. "It is I who am asking the questions."
Xarion fell quiet at once.
Caelith lifted her eyes to the Old Madam.
That gaze, though steady, bore no harshness. It did not feel like an interrogation, but rather the measured ease of a private conversation between equals—one that invited truth rather than compelled it.
She was silent for a few moments. Then, at last, she spoke. "He knelt for me… for two days and two nights."
The Old Madam inclined her head. "That much, I know."
"He defied an imperial decree for my sake."
"I know that as well."
Caelith hesitated, her voice softening. "And when he looks at me… there is no one else in his eyes but me."
The Old Madam regarded her with a stern look. For a long while, she said nothing.
Then, slowly, she smiled.
