"I understand," Lance nodded after a pause.
After his subordinate left, Rhaegar remained standing by the window for a very long time.
He knew Caelith's nature better than most.
She had never been a woman who enjoyed relying on others for everything. She possessed her own judgment, her own strength, and her own pride. She had built Firefly Pavilion from nothing but an idea.
She had earned the respect of skilled embroiderers and managed them with authority. When trouble struck, she was always the first to step forward and steady the situation before it spiraled beyond control.
He should have been proud.
And he was.
Yet there remained something inside him that refused to settle.
It was not distrust. Nor was it worry. It was heartache.
For too many years, she had carried every burden alone. He wanted to help her. Wanted to stand beside her and shoulder some of that weight.
Yet he feared she would interpret his intervention as a sign that he underestimated her abilities.
