"There are three of them," she said.
The confession didn't just hang in the air; it seemed to consume it, leaving the imperial wing in a vacuum of absolute, ringing silence.
Eris didn't move. She couldn't. Her heart was a frantic, slamming weight in her chest, the sound of it so loud in her own ears that she wondered if he could feel the vibration through the fabric of her skirts.
It was out. The secret she had carried through the wind of the capital and the cold of the library was finally laid bare between them.
For a moment, Soren did nothing. His stillness was complete, a sudden and total cessation of motion that was more unnerving than an outburst.
Then, slowly, his eyes opened.
They were wide. It was the specific, glazed wideness of eyes that had received information far too vast for the brain to process in a single breath.
