Something subtle flickered across Selene's face—interest sharpened by satisfaction.
"How tragic," Selene said softly. "To be so alone in a place like this."
Aria lowered her gaze. "I am grateful to serve."
Selene laughed quietly. "You sound rehearsed." She reached out and adjusted a loose strand of Aria's hair with intimate ease, her fingers cool against Aria's skin. "You don't need to fear me, child. I'm not cruel."
Aria's stomach tightened.
Cruel people never announced themselves.
Before she could respond, another presence entered the gallery.
"My lady."
Rowan's voice was calm, measured, and impossible to ignore.
He stood at the archway, tall and composed, hands folded neatly behind his back. His steel-gray eyes met Selene's without flinching. There was no challenge in his posture but there was no submission either.
"The king requires Aria elsewhere," Rowan said.
Selene turned slowly, her smile never faltering. "Does he? Or is that your decision?
