The chamber felt too quiet after Valen left, the flickering light from the torches cast slow-moving shadows across the walls, and for a moment, Kaelvryn found himself staring at them without truly seeing them.
Lucas remained seated, though his posture had shifted slightly, his earlier ease replaced with something more attentive, more alert, as his gaze drifted toward the king.
"You are thinking too loudly," Lucas said after a while, his tone lighter than the weight behind his eyes.
Kaelvryn remained where he was, seated at the edge of the bed, his hands loosely clasped together, though the tension in his fingers betrayed the storm beneath the stillness.
Lucas watched him carefully, "you nearly broke my ribs not long ago," he added casually, "so I would prefer if whatever is happening in that head of yours does not lead to a second round."
Kaelvryn's gaze remained fixed ahead, unfocused in a way that was unlike him, as though he were looking through the walls rather than at them.
