Andria's POV
Sir Kaelric didn't speak immediately. He leaned back slightly, arms folding across his chest, eyes never leaving my face.
The playful glint that had danced in them earlier was gone, replaced by something sharper. He wasn't teasing now. He was listening.
"How?" he asked again, slower and more careful this time. As though he didn't want to spook me.
I swallowed. My fingers tightened around the romance book on the desk in front of me, the pages creasing under my grip.
"She was born to the same household that raised me," I said quietly. "For a while."
"For a while," he echoed. "That sounds unfinished. Is she a Wolfsburn?"
"It is a long story," I replied before I could stop myself.
The library seemed to shrink. The shelves leaned in, the silence thickened, and suddenly the dust in the air felt heavy in my lungs.
I hadn't planned on opening this door. I'd locked it for a reason.
