Now that the tears had dried and Luca had been reduced to the occasional hiccup and sniffle, the world felt quieter.
Not exactly light, not yet—but definitely less suffocating.
Xavier, ever calm and reliable despite looking half-dead, handed Luca a drink and a small packet of snacks, like nothing dramatic had just occurred in the last half hour.
He even gave him a faint, encouraging smile as he sat cross-legged across from him, posture just the right amount of alert and at ease.
Luca stared at the drink, then up at Xavier.
"What about you?" he offered, voice still slightly hoarse.
Xavier shook his head. "Not yet. I have to process the energy inside me first. If I take more, it might overload."
The exchange sounded normal—almost routine, even. But from where she sat, Duchess Amelia's brow twitched.
She hadn't interrupted before. Hadn't so much as blinked throughout Luca's earlier story.
But this was something else when she was staring at a few questionable things.
