Steel, Smiles, and Unspoken Things
"Lane should be back soon."
Clara nodded.
But inside, her thoughts were far less steady.
Why does he look at me like that… and then not?
Why does he notice everything except the obvious?
She tightened her grip on her shield unconsciously, the leather strap creaking softly beneath her fingers.
Across the guild hall, adventurers continued their chatter. Some registered new requests. Others boasted about minor victories, exaggerating them into legends. Tankards clinked. Chairs scraped. A bard in the corner tuned a worn lute.
But whenever someone's gaze drifted toward Victor and Clara—
It quickly drifted away.
They had been present when Victor released his killing intent earlier. They remembered the weight of it. The way their knees trembled.
No one dared stare at Clara now.
No one dared approach.
A silence settled between Victor and Clara—not awkward, not hostile.
Just lingering.
Victor didn't like lingering silence.
"Hey, Clara."
