The night after the vote felt strangely quiet.
The city lights outside Dorian’s penthouse flickered faintly against the glass, painting the room in a soft glow. Elara sat on the couch, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long gone cold. Across the room, Dorian stood near the window, staring down at the streets below.
He hadn’t said much since they came home.
Caelen had fallen asleep hours ago, curled safely in his room. The apartment was finally still, yet the silence between them felt heavier than any argument.
“You should get some sleep,” Elara said quietly.
Dorian didn’t turn around. “I can’t.”
She set the cup down gently. “Because of Riven?”
He exhaled slowly, his shoulders tense. “Because of everything.”
Elara stood and walked closer, her voice calm. “You won today.
