Mark stood in the doorway of the pavilion, his breath still visible in the air. His expensive suit was soaked through, clinging to his broad shoulders. He didn't approach Seren, who was slumped weakly on the floor, but instead stared at his mother with a completely flat and controlled expression.
Mark stepped inside. He stopped right beside Beatrice, ignoring Seren, who was staring at him with the faint remnants of hope.
"Mom, what are you doing here?" Mark asked softly. Without a trace of anger in his tone, yet full of emphasis.
Beatrice didn't move from her spot. She raised the brown folder slightly higher. "Offering a solution, Mark. You know this marriage has no life left in it. Seren has agreed to let you go so you can focus on Haelyn and your heir."
