Edward had known he'd overstepped the moment he stepped out of their room two hours ago. The icy thread of recognition had been instant, not just that he'd crossed a line, but that he'd done it in the one arena where neither of them would forgive easily. Gabriel, perhaps, if he handled it right. Damian? Not a chance.
The dining hall was bright with late summer light spilling through the tall windows, gilding the edges of polished silver and crystal. The long table had been set in its pared-down configuration, with only the center section in use, a small nod toward intimacy without losing the weight of formality.
