The return from Halden Crest should have brought relief.
By dawn, the diplomatic retreat had ended without incident. The Trade Circle's private assurances strengthened Ashford's international standing, and the overnight conversations Lucien secured promised three new sovereign logistics channels by the next quarter. From every external angle, the trip had been another quiet success.
Yet the silence in the car back to Ashford Tower carried the weight of something far less manageable.
The nightmare.
The way Seraphina had woken with Lucien already beside her. The steady warmth of his hand on her shoulder. Neither Seraphina nor Lucien had moved quickly to restore the old distance after the fear passed, and nothing about this had been discussed directly. Nothing needed to be.
