Selene flexed her wrist where he had held her. It did not hurt—but the heat of his grip lingered.
"I was merely strolling, my lord."
"You will refrain from strolling near the school. Didn't I warn you?"
"I'm sorry, my lord. I thought you mean inside school rooms and I was free to roam around campus."
His eyes darkened at once, shadow swallowing what little restraint remained within them.
"You will regret that misunderstanding," he said quietly.
The tension between them sharpened like a drawn blade.
He did not like that others had noticed her.
He did not like that Cassian had looked at her.
He liked even less that Cassian had been interested.
The more nobles who recognized Selene, the more vulnerable she became. Court politics was not a game of idle whispers; it was a battlefield disguised as civility. A single rumor could become a weapon.
And whether he wished to admit it—or not—
She was his weakness.
