The room went dead silent.
Rin's eyes widened, and his lips parted in disbelief. "What...? Aunt, what are you talking about? Why aren't you in support?"
He leaned forward on the couch, shoulders tense, waiting for her answer.
Lirien didn't look at him. She continued slicing the apple with slow, clean strokes, the blade scraping against the fruit with every cut. When the plate was filled with neat slices, she pushed it gently toward Lucien.
Lucien glanced down at it, then back at her. His usual confident smirk faltered. He didn't know if he should touch the fruit after hearing what she just said.
He leaned back, crossing his arms.
"Why?" His voice was calm, but his tone carried weight.
Still, no reply came from her.
Lucien's jaw flexed. He repeated himself, more firmly this time.
"Why are you against it?"
Finally, Lirien's eyes lifted from the apple, sharp and steady.
