Santi set the tray down on the small table, leaning in just enough to study Nico's chained wrist.
"You really should stop stressing yourself, my king," he said smoothly, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "Kyan's gone. Escaped. He's not worth your worry anymore."
Nico's jaw tightened, the muscle ticking. "You don't know that."
"I do," Santi countered, slipping into that easy, almost comforting voice he used when he wanted to bend someone's thoughts. "If he was still around, trust me… we'd know. You should save your energy for something—" he glanced at the food with a small grin "—or someone else."
Santi pulled out the chair and sat close, resting his elbow casually on the table.
"You think he's out there plotting against you," he said, his voice slow and careful, "but the truth? He ran with his tail between his legs. Probably halfway to another city by now, hiding."
Nico's gaze stayed cold, unreadable.
