Kael didn't answer immediately.
That alone told her something. In the weeks she'd spent inside his territory, inside his residence, inside the careful architecture of his attention, she'd learned that Kael's silences were not empty. They were decisions. Every pause was a calculation — what to give, what to hold, how much truth a moment could bear.
This silence was longer than most.
Around them the forest was doing what forests do — moving in small increments, light shifting through canopy, roots trading pressure far below the soil surface. Aria felt all of it at the edges of her awareness and kept her attention on his face and waited. She'd learned to wait too. He'd taught her that without meaning to.
"How did you get that name?" he said finally.
"My mother left it for me."
"Your mot
