Lorraine could have asked. She wanted to ask why he did it. He revealed it to her, and he must have a hidden motive behind it.
But this was a public place.
And she was supposed to be mute. Deaf. Powerless. A curse. A secret.
And that prince, her husband, was watching from across the room, his gaze a blade pressed to the back of her neck.
The space between her and Damian had grown dangerously narrow. Too narrow for strangers. Too narrow for royalty. Too narrow for someone like her to be seen standing that close to someone like him.
She stepped back. A gentle, measured movement.
"Did you say something? I didn't catch that," she signed, her fingers graceful, face blank with feigned confusion.
She will not let him know she'd heard him. She will let him see she wasn't rattled.
