Her lips parted, but no sound came.
Lucas tilted his head, studying her silence with the patience of a predator.
“You don’t have to answer,” he said softly, almost kindly, though the curve of his mouth betrayed the satisfaction underneath. “I already know.”
Her eyes lingered, sharp but tired. She didn't respond, she steadied herself.
"Ah, look at you," he said. "Pretending to be a strong, professional, diplomat again, huh?"
She gave him a small and measured smile, it was the kind that looked like surrender but wasn’t. “Maybe,” she said softly. “Maybe I do.”
Lucas tilted his head, satisfied, as if he’d already won. “I saluted Elise, you know. Your sister wasn’t a fool. She understood what it meant to bend before breaking.”
Stella lowered her gaze, lips pressing together, she lets him
