Ivy returned home that evening, her steps dragging ever so slightly.
As soon as she pushed open the door, she saw Silas sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for her.
The moment she saw him, something inside her softened. Her heart loosened, her guard lowered, and without even realizing it, she walked toward him as if drawn by instinct.
Silas stood up the moment he noticed her, offering her a warm smile. But halfway through that smile, he froze and frowned deeply.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Ivy attempted a smile. "Nothing."
But Silas wasn't fooled. He leaned closer, lips grazing her ear, and whispered teasingly,
"Are you sure? Or do you want to try on that maid outfit we talked about?"
Before she even processed his words, her entire face flushed crimson.
The agreement they had made just a few days ago flashed through her mind.
If either of them refused to communicate openly, the other had the right to impose playful "punishments."
