Otthen followed after Cambrik, watching the sadness in her eyes, a hollow ache forming in his chest.
He didn't mean for her to see him with Cynthia, especially not with the dress he had ordered long ago, with Cambrik in mind.
The realization of how deeply he had hurt her felt like a weight was bearing down on him. He moved toward her, his mouth open to speak, to apologize, to say something that might explain—
But Fenn stepped forward, blocking Otthen’s path with an unyielding expression. Otthen was taken aback, his words caught in his throat as he met Fenn’s steady, cold gaze.
“Mom,” Fenn said, his voice calm but firm, “please take Cambrik aside. I have a few private words to share with Mr. Neor.”
Irene’s lips pressed into a thin line, understanding the tension simmering between the
