The private royal chambers were quiet.
Caspian stood near the tall windows with his back to the room, still wearing the formal black-and-silver coat from the ceremony, though he had torn the ceremonial sash off hours ago. Outside, the last of the wedding fireworks painted brief streaks of gold and crimson across the night sky. Inside, the air felt heavy and airless.
Seraphina sat on the edge of the enormous marriage bed, already changed into a pale silk nightgown that left little to the imagination. She had dismissed the maids. A single decanter of dark wine and two crystal glasses waited on the side table.
"You barely spoke to me all day," she said, keeping her voice light. "Not during the feast. Not during the dances. People noticed."
Caspian did not turn around. "People notice everything. It changes nothing."
The coldness in his tone made her spine stiffen. She rose and crossed the room, stopping a few paces behind him.
