Sasha has noticed the shift in Silveria long before Silveria was properly ready to admit it fully to herself.
"You like him," Sasha said bluntly, dropping onto the couch beside her one lazy afternoon while Silveria sketched quietly, not even bothering to soften the blunt accusation in the slightest.
"We're married," Silveria said carefully. "Liking him seems like a reasonably expected outcome, given the circumstances."
"That's not actually what I mean, and you know it." Sasha studied her carefully, something knowing in her sharp gaze. "I mean you genuinely like him. The real kind of liking. The kind that inevitably gets complicated."
Silveria didn't answer right away, which told Sasha everything she apparently needed to know regardless.
"Silveria," Sasha said, considerably gentler now. "Be careful, please."
"Why?" Silveria asked, setting her sketchbook aside entirely.
