The tension at the dinner table was thick, like an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. Rai could feel the weight of the stares pressing against her skin. The incident earlier—the mark on her body—had not been forgotten. The warriors weren’t bold enough to question her directly, but their whispers filled the space between bites of food.
She could hear them, feel their curiosity drilling into her. But she didn’t react. She just kept eating, shoulders tense, eyes lowered to her plate.
Across from her, Khael was unusually quiet. He wasn’t whispering like the others, wasn’t prying with his gaze. Instead, he was simply watching. His golden eyes were sharp, unreadable, as if he was waiting for something.
It wasn’t until the hall began to empty that he finally leaned in, his voice low enough
