For several seconds, Titania did not answer him.
The golden veil surrounding her body continued to shimmer with the same quiet radiance it had held since Ludwig opened the door, but now that he understood its purpose, its beauty became grotesque. It did not resemble a blessing anymore. It looked like a layer of stained glass placed between a worshipper and the heavens, letting the colors through while blocking the voice that should have accompanied them.
Titania's gaze lowered to the veil across her chest, then shifted toward the pale restraints around her wrists. During all the years Ludwig had known her, even through conflict and battle, he had rarely seen her expression betray anything beyond mild annoyance or the patient boredom of someone who had been alive long enough to find panic repetitive. Now, for the first time, she looked genuinely uncertain.
It was not because Ludwig's conclusion was too complicated to accept.
It was because it was simple.
Far too simple.
