That morning, Valerie awoke once more to a silence she knew all too well.
The side of the bed beside her was empty, the sheets neatly folded, as if Demian had never been there the night before though her body still carried traces of his presence. She lay still for a while, staring at the ceiling with eyes not yet fully awake, letting the unfamiliar feeling settle quietly in her chest. It was not anger. Nor surprise. Just a soft, lingering emptiness.
When Lira and Sera entered to help her dress, their movements were more careful than usual. They knew Valerie was always sensitive to the smallest changes.
"Your Grace," Sera said softly while fastening her gown, "the Duke left very early. Before sunrise."
Valerie nodded, the motion barely visible. "I see," she replied briefly. There were no follow-up questions. No complaints. She did not want to sound like a woman who waited.
