The room fell silent again, but it no longer felt suffocating. The air was still heavy, but not with tension—more with the weight of all the unspoken questions hanging between them like an invisible web.
Lucian stood still for a moment before quietly crossing to the opposite corner of the room. There was an armchair turned away from the window, a low table beside it, holding a bottle of water and two glasses. He sat down slowly. The movement wasn’t commanding or dominant—just a man who knew his presence alone was already enough. He didn’t want to take any more from the woman who had already been stripped too much of her own life.
Andromeda shifted to the side, leaning on her elbow, but still didn’t look at him. Her gaze was fixed on the floor, as if she might find some answer there to th
