It was the urge to speak.
But what kind of urge was that?
It was not to order. Not to correct someone or argue either.
It was something softer.
Something she didn't quite know how to identify.
Her gaze slipped toward Elowyn once more. The girl was brushing frost from her fingertips, her expression even, her breath measured. She wasn't seeking attention. She wasn't preening. She simply… existed in a way that drew Valeria's focus without meaning to.
'I should say something.'
But what?
Praise? That felt clumsy coming from her mouth. She'd never been good at it, even with her siblings. Compliments always sounded stiff when she tried to force them.
A question? That risked sounding suspicious. The last thing she wanted was to make Elowyn feel interrogated.
A simple introduction? They had already exchanged names. Doing it again would be foolish.
Something neutral? Something professional?
She tried for that.
Her lips parted — barely — before she hesitated.
The words stalled.
