After the meeting ended, I returned to my room with my pulse still beating too hard in my throat. The door shut behind me with a soft, final click, and for a few long seconds I just stood there in the silence, one hand braced against the bedpost while the other rubbed absently at the place on my neck where Darius's grip had been.
"I really hate men like him... but his face—hah, forget it."
The chamber felt too still after the noise of the hall, too private, as if all the fear I'd held back had finally followed me home.
I sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling slowly, trying to gather myself. My mind kept replaying the meeting in fragments—the nobles' sneers, the sharpness in Darius's eyes, the moment I'd felt myself go cold under his hand. I hated how close I had come to breaking. I hated even more that Elowen's support had left me feeling both relieved and suspicious at the same time.
"Now, I have to keep my word," I whispered to myself.
