That arrangement between our families remained intact, like a blood oath stamped again and again without my hand ever touching the pen. I had once believed in it with the fervor of the devout. Because of that faith, I had crafted a thousand excuses for every absence, every distant look, every conversation that ended when I entered a room. Until betrayal no longer required evidence. Until it simply was.
"Elena."
He spoke my name low, as though the walls themselves might carry tales to the Commission.
"You've been strange lately."
I turned onto my back and opened my eyes, fixing them on the coffered ceiling where shadows gathered like conspirators. "You're only noticing now?"
Silence stretched between us. Then his footsteps moved toward the fireplace, and I heard the soft thud of his jacket being cast across the leather chair. "Are you still dwelling on what happened the other day? Silvia explained everything."
A sound escaped me—not quite laughter, too hollow for that.
"The ceremony preparations are in their final stage," he continued, his voice taking on the formal cadence he used in sit-downs. "The Dons take this alliance seriously. As do I."
Seriously.