Valentina said nothing.
The silence that followed Morwenna's demand was not the hollow, ringing silence of a shock; it was something far more predatory. The previous silence had been the sound of a room catching its breath after a blow.
This silence was the sound of a predator coiled, muscles tensed, deciding exactly where to sink its teeth. It was the heavy, suffocating stillness of a woman who had already absorbed the impact, measured the depth of the wound, and was now calculating the exact cost of her next words.
The air in the room felt thick, almost viscous, as if the sheer weight of the unspoken truth were turning the oxygen into something heavy and hard to swallow.
"Valentina," Morwenna said again.
