The walk from the Imperial Council Hall to the palace gates felt like an out-of-body experience. Lucius's hand was a warm, heavy weight around hers, his fingers interlaced with hers so tightly it was as if he feared she might dissolve into the morning mist if he let go.
Evelina didn't struggle. She didn't speak or rather couldn't speak a word. Her brain, usually a marvel of rapid-fire calculations and used to analyze very move beforehand, was currently stuck in a catastrophic feedback loop. The "Ice Princess" who could keep her emotions in control and dismantle a political conspiracy or a high-tech security system was currently being defeated by a single memory: the pressure of Lucius's lips against hers.
