That night, one bitter truth was laid bare at last, the bond between Demian and Ivanka had never truly lived and Valerie, without ever sitting at that table, had claimed something that could not be seized by power or forced by decree.
And for the elders, it meant one deeply troubling thing, they were no longer dealing with a duke who hesitated but with a man who had already chosen.
The atmosphere in the dining hall grew heavier, as if even the air itself were holding its breath.
At last, one of the elders broke the silence. "If that is the case," he said quietly but firmly, "then what are we to do now, Ivanka?"
All eyes turned to her again. No longer demanding now searching. Looking for an answer, even a way out.
