The ballroom doors opened before Evelyn decided what Marcus’s silence in the armory meant.
A guard had delivered Lucian’s accusation without embellishment.
Every sign suggested Marcus wanted her.
He simply refused to name it.
“And High Alpha Blackcoast answered nothing?” Evelyn asked.
“No, General.”
Heat, music, and court jewels spilled through the open doors, bright enough to hide almost any private wound.
Marcus stood across the ballroom beneath the Blackcoast standard.
His posture was formal enough to look like distance.
He glanced at Evelyn once.
Then Lady Maren raised her voice.
“General Vesper, perhaps you can settle a question for us.”
The room quieted too quickly.
Evelyn crossed the threshold.
Nobles filled the central floor. Palace guards stood between the columns. A
