"Lady Euphyllia, you haven't eaten yet."
His voice came from the doorway, as though afraid that even sound might bruise me.
I didn't turn.
The wind outside my balcony was louder than I remembered, clawing at the stone railings, tugging at the curtains like restless fingers. Below, the cliffs stretched into darkness, the sea hidden but ever-present, roaring its quiet, endless hunger.
"I'm not hungry," I said.
It wasn't entirely true. But neither was it a lie.
Footsteps followed. He never crossed a room like he owned it. Aurelian always moved as if he were a guest in every space, even those he'd guarded his whole life.
The scent of warm bread reached me first. Then broth. Simple things. Familiar things.
He set the tray down on the small table behind me. "You said that yesterday," he
