The ripple of conversation that followed eased the tension—though not completely. Courtiers shifted subtly back into their patterns, the exchange between Valeria and Isolde having been dissected and reassembled in the time it took for a hand to lift a wineglass. There were a few light laughs. A return to chatter.
But that silence between them—the one born not of awkwardness, but of understanding—remained.
Valeria took another breath. Not tired. Not disarmed.
Simply ready.
She turned slightly, just enough to address the cluster surrounding her. "If you'll excuse me," she said with a slight nod, "I should see to some of the other houses before the hour grows late."
Gracious. Detached. Unassailable.
There were nods in return. Courteous bows. One or two murmured well-wishes and compliments. The circle began to loosen.
But before Valeria could fully step away, a softer voice followed at her side.
