The last of the courtiers bowed and withdrew. The great hall doors shut with a muted thud, and silence wrapped itself around the room like a heavy cloak. Only the whisper of the wind lingered through the open balcony, stirring the pale curtains.
Aurelia sat still, her fingers brushing the stem of her goblet though she hadn't touched the wine. The lingering voices and laughter had vanished; even Gwen stood motionless by the wall, quiet as shadow.
Valerian leaned back in his chair, eyes following the last servant's retreat. "Finally," he murmured. "Peace."
Aurelia's gaze drifted toward him, uncertain.
He turned his head slightly. "I told you we'd speak once we reached Valkoron," he said, breaking the silence between them.
"Yes," she said softly. "You did."
"And I meant it." His voice was calm, deep ... the tone of someone used to being obeyed, yet there was something quieter beneath it now. "It's time I explained why I married you."
