The days after Torvin's report settled into a rhythm, but it was a rhythm that felt different, charged, and expectant, as if the very air of Frosthold were waiting for something to happen. The warriors trained, the smiths forged, the healers prepared. The monster waves came, weaker and less frequent, and the North held the line.
But Kaelen was watching me.
I noticed it first at the morning meal, when his winter-gray eyes followed me across the enormous hall, tracking my movements, cataloging my expressions. He sat at the head of the high table, his cup of tea forgotten, his food untouched, his gaze fixed on me as if I might disappear if he looked away.
I noticed it in the council chamber when his hand found mine beneath the table, his fingers lacing through mine with a grip that was almost desperate. He did not speak and did not interrupt the discussions about supply lines and patrol routes, but his presence was a constant pressure at my side.
