Willow stood in Dorian's study, dusting the same bookshelf for the third time that morning.
She wasn't supposed to be here. The study was usually cleaned by the senior staff, but she couldn't stay away.
Even after two weeks of his coldness following her pregnancy announcement, she kept hoping to see some crack in his facade.
The door opened and she turned eagerly, only to find him entering with Carina. The Gamma looked utterly miserable, her usual spark completely extinguished.
She moved like a puppet on strings, there in body but absent in spirit.
"You're not assigned to this room," Dorian said flatly, not meeting Willow's eyes. "Leave."
"I just thought—"
"The kitchens need help with lunch preparation. Go there instead."
Willow hesitated, noting how exhausted he looked. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and she had heard from other servants that he hadn't been sleeping. "Dorian, are you—"
