202
~Belinda's POV
I was still lying on the bed, the silken sheets gathered loosely around me, when the door creaked open. The sound was soft, but sharp enough to pull me upright in an instant. I sat up quickly, back straight, eyes fixed on the figure stepping inside.
Uncle Fridolf.
Relief washed over me, but it wasn't desperation. It was calm, calculated relief, like the kind a queen feels when her most loyal knight returns from battle alive.
"Uncle," I said, voice steady, though my eyes searched his face. "How did it go?"
He closed the door behind him, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he walked toward me, each step measured, deliberate. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, smooth, but carrying the weight of news.
"Damon was furious," uncle Fridolf said. "So angry that he nearly lost control. He paced like a beast ready to tear everything apart. But I managed to convince him. He will not act rashly, at least, not yet."
