Aries continued to stare at me with that same look of hatred, his eyes boring into mine as if he could set me on fire by sheer force of will. I heard a faint, metallic groan; the silver spoon in his hand was beginning to bend under the pressure of his grip.
Elena let out a sharp, pointed cough.
The sound acted like a physical blow. Aries flinched, his knuckles white, and he immediately redirected his gaze downward, stabbing at his plate with a ferocity that suggested he was imagining the grilled meat was my neck.
But that was just a minor distraction compared to the presence at the head of the table. The King.
He wasn't looking at his plate. He wasn't looking at Elena. He was looking at me. His gaze wasn't filled with the disappointed coldness as usual.
Instead, it was heavy with a sharp, piercing curiosity—the kind of look a jeweler gives a stone he previously thought was glass but now suspects might be a diamond.
