Draven.
My Study was too quiet.
I sat behind my desk, my fingers tapping on the polished wood, as my thoughts circled like vultures.
I thought about how Valmora had taken over Meredith like that, and how her voice had cut off mid-sentence—none of it remained with me.
"Rhovan," I called inwardly. "What was Valmora trying to say? Why did she suddenly stop?"
His voice rumbled through me, deep and certain. "I was the one who shut her off."
My brows furrowed, eyes narrowing at the firelight flickering across the study walls. "You shut her off? Why would you do that?"
"Because she was talking out of point," Rhovan said, blunt as ever.
I leaned back in my chair, suspicion threading cold through my veins. Valmora? Talking out of point? That was impossible. Her words were always measured, sharp, calculated.
"What was she going to say?" I pressed. "You know, don't you?"
"It's not important to you for now," he answered.
