The silence in the study didn't just sit... it pulsed.
It settled unwelcomed.
Alex stood frozen, his eyes locked onto Kyle's sea-green gaze.
For a second, the mask of the Crown Prince he'd created, slipped.
He didn't see a clumsy maid anymore or a "weapon" he saw the man who had looked at his own black veins and refused to flinch. It was a level of raw, iron-willed dignity that reminded Alex painfully of Rhyena—except where Rhyena's strength was a storm, Kyle's was a cold, deep current. Like the sea his eyes matched.
"Exhausting?"
Alex finally whispered, his voice cracking the frost of the room.
"You think this is a game, Kyle? You were drained. You were left to die in my hallway like a beast at slaughter. And you think the 'Prince and Servant' game is the problem?" He was a prince, he really shouldn't be arguing with a maid.
"I think the silence is the problem."
