Boris stood quietly in Ivan's study, the silence heavy as the door shut behind Ivan. The room smelled faintly of smoke and old books, the firelight flickering against the carved walls. Ivan entered without a word. His steps were slow, his shoulders weighed down as though the crown on his head was made of iron.
Boris turned to face him. His expression was calm now, though earlier at the table his anger had been hot and sharp. He spoke softly, but the words carried weight.
"Did you really know about her Highness's pregnancy back then… and chose to ignore it?" Boris asked, his brows furrowed. "Or is there something you are not saying?"
Ivan's eyes lowered. He said nothing, but his silence was louder than words. His face looked drawn, his eyes clouded with sorrow.
Boris's chest tightened at the sight. He stepped closer, his voice gentler this time. "Your Highness…"
