Lucivar straightened, turning his gaze from the page to the man he had once called brother. His eyes seemed to peel back every layer of Morvakar's soul. He stepped closer, slow enough for the silence to press down. A faint, knowing smile ghosted over his face. Lifting a hand, he rested it briefly on Morvakar's shoulder. "You're still a good man," he said quietly, almost tenderly. Then he turned and walked out.
Morvakar knew that Lucivar knew.
Without another thought, Morvakar pivoted sharply and strode out of the parlour. He entered the small room.
Luna was still asleep, her breathing steady, her face relaxed in a rare moment of peace. The child had drifted to sleep in Thessa's arms. The woman sat in a wooden chair, rocking gently, her hair catching the low light. When she saw him, she immediately stilled. Her eyes searched his, reading the tension there without needing to ask.
