They didn't discuss the hotel room once they made it back to the estate the following morning, but something had undeniably changed between them anyway. Silveria found herself watching him more often than she used to. She caught him watching her more too, quick glances he thought she didn't notice across the dinner table, across the length of a quiet hallway, over the rim of his coffee cup at breakfast when he thought she was absorbed in her sketches.
The small things multiplied over the following days. He began leaving his study door open in the evenings, a change so subtle she almost missed it, until she realized he'd never once done that before the storm. She began lingering in the library later than she needed to, telling herself it was for the good light, knowing perfectly well the real reason was the chance that he might wander in, as he sometimes did now, and take the chair across from hers without saying a word.
