“Celeste asked what would happen if you accepted the crown and still refused me.”
Albert stood beside the locked case containing Ravencrest’s crown.
Evelyn remained near the council room door.
The captured standards were still secured in the inner courtyard, guarded by her veterans. Their key rested beneath her uniform. The arsenal keys Lucian had surrendered pulled at the opposite side of her belt.
Too many men had placed symbols of power in her hands and called the weight an offer.
“What did you tell her?” Evelyn asked.
Albert looked at the crown.
“Nothing.”
The mate bond stirred between them.
Not warmth.
Recognition.
She knew the shape of his silence because she had once built a life around interpreting it.
Albert crossed to the table and placed a folded document on its surf
