Elara sat frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
The warmth of the meal sat in her stomach like a stone, a reminder of a kindness she didn't understand and couldn't trust.
"My lord?" Her voice was a whisper, trembling.
Vaelith looked up, his silver eyes unreadable behind the mask.
"Yes?""I... I should return to my duties."
The words tumbled out, desperate and quick. "
It is late.
The other slaves... they will be wondering.
There is work.
Always work."She stood up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the floor.
She didn't wait for permission. She couldn't.
She bowed her head, muttering a frantic "Thank you, my lord," before turning and fleeing the room as if the devil himself were chasing her.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Vaelith stared a
