The silk was deliberate.
Midnight blue. Seamless. Severe.
Serena did not dress to impress.
She dressed to remind.
Elara noticed that first.
The elegance. The precision. The absence of softness.
They stood in the east corridor where torchlight dimmed to gold against stone. Outside, the forest murmured — not loud, not threatening, just present.
Whooooo—
A distant call drifted between the trees.
Elara felt the bond stir faintly.
Not pain.
Awareness.
Serena watched her register it.
"You still react," she said smoothly.
Elara folded her arms.
"I'm not made of stone."
"No," Serena replied. "You're made of uncertainty."
Ouch.
---
Serena smiled.
It did not reach her eyes.
"You handled the courtyard well."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It is an observation."
Tsk.
Elara leaned back against the cold wall.
"Just say what you came to say."
Serena's gaze sharpened.
"Protection can vanish overnight."
The words settled softly.
Heavier than accusation.
Lighter than threat.
