Rowan did not fight once Cassian had both her wrists.
That was the first thing that made the room feel more dangerous rather than less so. If she had kept struggling, if she had snarled, twisted, spat, or tried to tear free with the desperation of someone cornered before the trap fully closed, the moment would have remained simple enough for everyone in the great hall to understand. She had entered. Cassian had stopped her.
Grimridge held. Instead, she went still with a composure that changed the shape of the silence around them, and the silence itself became part of the threat.
Sable remained where she was, one hand braced low against the child beneath her dress while the first shock of realization worked through her body in hard, steady waves. Mara was no longer behind her.
