"...I don't lie."
Selenne's gaze didn't break.
She remembered now—I don't lie. He'd said it before as well, unblinking, same even tone. Not boastful. Not proud. Just factual, like someone stating the color of their eyes.
'And the damn boy has a knack for dropping it at the exact moment it'll land.'
But it didn't work on her.
Not the way he probably wanted.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, the kind of focus that didn't come from suspicion, but precision.
You're too deliberate, Lucavion. Too good at knowing what not to say.
He wasn't smiling. But there was a stillness to him—a kind of quiet that only comes from preparation. Not ease. Control.
And control, she understood intimately.
"Is that so?" she said, voice smooth as glass, cool but steady. "Then…"
Her head tilted, just a fraction, the arch of her brow unreadable.
"You won't mind answering clearly."
