Adrian was gone before sunrise.
Calls.
Meetings.
Decisions.
Power.
Rowan noticed it first.
He leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Lyra sip from a glass of water, her expression unreadable.
“…Did he say anything to you before he left?” Rowan asked.
Lyra didn’t look at him.
“No.”
Rowan frowned slightly.
“Huh.”
A pause.
“He’s been like that before,” Rowan added.
Lyra’s gaze flicked briefly to him.
“Like what?”
Rowan shrugged.
“Focused. When something demands his attention, everything else kind of… fades.”
Lyra said nothing.
But something in her chest tightened slightly.
Not pain.
Not anger.
Something quieter.
More unfamiliar.
The manor’s private grounds were expansive enough for training—open grass bordered by tall trees, offering space and privacy.
Different
