Selene’s POV
I know whose flags they are before Lucian says anything.
I can tell by the way he goes still when he sees them. Not the controlled stillness he uses in meetings or the careful stillness of a man managing a room. Something older than both of those. Something that lives in the body before the mind catches up to it.
The way you go still when you see something that shaped you arriving uninvited at your door.
“Your father,” I say.
It is not a question.
Lucian does not answer and that is its own answer.
Corrin in the chair behind us makes a small sound that is almost satisfaction and I turn and look at him and the smile on his face is the kind that has been waiting for this specific moment for considerably longer than this morning.
“He wanted to be here,” Corrin says simply.
