Draven.
The study door clicked shut behind Dennis, leaving the fire's glow to burn against silence.
My thoughts lingered on Wanda for a moment longer—her pleading, her tears, her betrayal—but I was finished wasting breath on her. She was already a shadow to me.
What I needed now was something that steadied me. Someone… And there was no perfect presence that my wife's.
So, I pushed away from the desk and strode out into the corridor, the weight in my chest easing with every step I took toward the third floor.
The hallways were quieter now, servants moving like whispers as they tidied up from breakfast.
A few bowed as I passed, but my mind was already ahead—imagining silver hair spilling over pale shoulders, soft eyes lifting when I entered.
By the time I reached my chambers, I could hear the faint rustle of fabric and the clink of porcelain.
