When Silver looked back at her, his entire expression had changed. The playful arrogance, the genuine affection, even the raw dread... all of it had been wiped away. In their place lay an icy, terrifying composure that Evangeline had never seen before—a total emotional lockdown.
"Why did you even come in the first place?" he asked, his voice completely flat, devoid of any warmth or melody.
"What?" Evangeline breathed, the words fracturing in her throat.
The physical sting of his voice was far worse than any slap could have ever been. She stared at him, stunned, her royal majesty crumbling in the face of his utter coldness. She looked at his face... but he wasn't there. It was as if she were staring at a hollow shell. She... she couldn't find a single word to say back to him.
"You are not prepared to face my family, Evangeline," Silver continued smoothly, looking down at her with unyielding, chilling formality. "My Queen... you need to leave. Immediately."
