The silence didn't last.
The moment the hour was up, Cassian inhaled sharply, like a diver breaking the surface after being held under too long. The Alpha dominance receded, replaced instantly by the frantic, chemical anxiety of the Pendulum Effect.
"Rowena," he gasped, running a hand through his messy hair. "I must... the color of the drapes. For the wedding. She prefers crimson, but I think gold..."
Elian banged his head against the wooden table. Thunk.
"We were doing so well," Elian mumbled into the wood. "We had quiet. We had peace."
Cassian stood up, pacing again. The frantic energy was back, vibrating under his skin like a fever. "I need to draft the seating chart. If I put Duke Valdus next to the High Priest, they will fight. But Rowena insists on protocol. She wants perfection."
He looked at Elian, his eyes wide and glassy. "Valet. Paper. I need to write this down."
"We burned the bark, Sire."
