Lena's POV
After the hall emptied, they put us in the formal receiving room.
It was one of Crestfall's more serious spaces, wood-paneled and high-windowed, with the quality of a room that had been designed to hold significant moments and had done so long enough to carry the weight of them in its walls. Someone had placed a tray of tea and wine on the side table. Neither of us touched it.
We were alone for the first time since the night in his study.
The announcement was done. The room was quiet. Outside, the two packs were dispersing into their separate social orbits, the evening's formality releasing into the looser movement of people who had done what they came to do.
Damien stood near the window with his arms at his sides. Not pacing. Just present in the way he was always present,
