It had been three days since Lyanna and Azrael had a real conversation. They saw each other, had formal interactions during meals, and slept in the same bed. But they weren't together.
Azrael left their chambers before dawn each morning and returned long after Lyanna had gone to bed. If she were still awake, he'd enter quietly, change clothes, and fall asleep without a word. He was exhausted and caught up in whatever crisis he was managing.
She tried not to take it personally. But it felt personal, especially after their fight in the library, the unresolved tension about the council's pressure for an heir, along with her secret knowledge about her possible infertility.
When she woke on the fourth day, Azreal was gone again. But this time there was a note on his pillow:
Council meeting about border attacks. Will update you tonight.
Will update you? Not "let's discuss" or "your opinion is needed."
Lyanna crumpled the note. Soon, Clara entered with breakfast.
