Liora did not look away from Cairis, not immediately, because there was something in his expression now that hadn't been there before. It wasn't just tension or restraint—it was uncertainty, small and controlled, almost invisible, but she saw it, and once she did, it became impossible to ignore, because Cairis was not someone who hesitated like this, not when it mattered.
"You're looking at me differently," he said, his voice steady but quieter than before, not an accusation, more like an observation that had already settled into place.
Liora didn't deny it. "Maybe I am."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and uncooperative, as if even the air had begun to resist certainty. Kael didn't interrupt, didn't move, his attention shifting between them, watching the fragile space where trust had once existed—now fractured, unstable, and quietly collapsing.
"…Then say what you're thinking," Cairis said.
