She had worn that expression for years. It was the face you made when you didn't know what was coming next and had decided that the safest response was to show nothing until you did.
He looked, despite everything that had happened to him and everything that had been withheld from him, like exactly what she had declared him to be.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
She watched him process the question. Not the words — he understood the words. He was processing what was underneath them, what she actually meant, what the right response was. She could see it happening, that small internal calculation.
"What is the reason?" he said. His voice was steady. Not the performed steadiness of someone trying to seem calm — the real kind, the kind built from years of not having the luxury of falling apart. "Elder sister brought me here. I don't think it was for my health."
Elara looked at him.
