His fingers brushed once more against the fabric of his sleeve, a small movement to ground himself. He weighed the choices in silence. He could confront her directly, demand an explanation.
Yet what would that achieve, except to place himself openly at odds with the most powerful woman in the kingdom? He could push against the guards, test their resolve, but he already knew how that would end.
In the end, there was no dramatic struggle, no clash of wills. There was only resignation, quiet but heavy.
He took a final step back, his eyes sweeping the doorway, the guards, the hidden power lingering just out of reach. He would not enter, not today.
He turned, his steps steady as he walked away, though the weight of failure pressed against him.
It was not a defeat in spectacle, but it clung to him nonetheless, carried in silence back through the halls until he reached the quiet of his chamber.
