Morgana waits, watching Mira closely.
The silence stretches between them. Mira's hands tremble on her side, the delicate fingers curling weakly as though they can hold in the shame that's flooding through her.
Her shoulders quiver, jerking under each quiet sob, but still.. she says nothing. Her mouth remains shut, sealed by a despair too heavy to voice.
The tears fall harder now, streaming down her cheeks in rapid succession, soaking the fabric of her gown as her breath hitches again and again.
Morgana narrows her eyes, her gaze slicing through the air like a blade. The longer Mira stays silent, the deeper Morgana's fury grows, feeding on that very lack of denial.
Every second that passes, every tear that falls, only confirms what she is now afraid to admit aloud, that Mira herself isn't even sure who the pup belongs to.
The possibility hangs between them.
But Morgana refuses to believe it.
