"Complicated magic term," he added quickly. "Think of it like… a constant thread between us. I tug, they feel it."
He made a small gesture with his fingers, as if pinching an invisible string.
Lira watched that motion, eyes narrowing in quiet thought. Serelith just snorted.
"So the 'foolish prince consort' rumors were wrong," she said lazily, tipping her head to one side. "You're actually useful?"
Her tone was light, but there was a real edge under it—anger at those rumors that had spread through other courts, at the people who had laughed at Elowen for choosing him. She hid it under teasing, because that was easier.
Mikhailis put a hand to his chest and leaned back a little on the cushion, as if struck by an invisible arrow.
"I'm wounded," he said. "In spirit this time, not just ribs."
He even added a small wince, just to sell it.
Cerys made a soft, almost inaudible snort, like she was trying very hard not to smile.
Elowen's cheeks colored faintly.
