The silence in the library shifted the moment Ilaria's sleeve slid back just enough for moon-pale skin to reveal the faintest impression of a mark. At first, it looked like nothing more than a bruise shaped by accident… but under the soft lantern glow, the lines sharpened.
And Lysander stilled.
His breath did not catch, he was too controlled for that, but something in his posture tightened, like a scholar confronted with a forbidden page he had only ever theorized about.
Ilaria's heart hammered painfully upon his reaction, wondering why he looked that way. Her fingers trembled as she pushed the fabric a little further, exposing the sigil fully.
