The silence between them was thick, heavy with things unsaid.
The meal was finished, the plates pushed aside, but neither moved to leave.
The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to claw at the edges of the room.
Elara sat rigid in her chair, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the table.
Every muscle in her body was coiled tight, ready to spring, ready to run.
She couldn't believe she was still here.
Sitting across from Commander Vaelith. Eating his food.
Breathing his air.It felt wrong.
Unnatural.
Like sitting in the eye of a storm and pretending the wind wasn't howling.
Yet, she hadn't moved.Across from her,
Vaelith sat with an ease that infuriated her.
He looked calm, relaxed, as if sharing a meal with a slav
