Silence fell again.
But this silence was different.
He was listening.
Not as a ruler.
Not as an interrogator.
As someone evaluating a threat to the order of the world.
She lifted her eyes to him fully.
“I know that it is hard for you to believe me. But I know,” she finished, voice trembling but unwavering, “that the threads never lie.”
A long, heavy silence followed.
Caleb turned slightly, gaze shifting toward the lake as if considering something far beyond the present moment.
His profile in the fading light looked carved from shadow and authority — sharp jaw, high cheekbones, dark hair stirred faintly by the evening breeze. Beautiful. Untouchable. Dangerous.
When he spoke again, his voice had changed.
Quieter.
Deeper.
“Show me,” he said.
Her breath caught.
“I… what?”
“You
