Glen had meant to follow Lyria after she left, there was something he needed to say. But his steps faltered the moment his gaze landed on Etien. A quiet hesitation gripped him, a sense that he couldn't just walk away and leave the man in such a fragile state. So he stayed.
Time moved slowly in that room. Silence hung thick, broken only by the occasional sound of Etien's labored breathing. Glen felt like an intruder, especially whenever he caught Ophelia's glance. The daughter of Earl Lyndader Blackmoor had looked toward Etien more than once, hesitant, unsure, like she wanted to approach but couldn't. Each glance ended the same: with Etien slumped in his chair, eyes half-closed, shutting out the world in silence.
The longer Glen lingered, the more he realized his presence was a barrier. Ophelia couldn't reach the Duke with him there. He lowered his head briefly, uneasy, then made a quiet decision, to step back and let the room belong to them.
