The air in the hall was still heavy with the metallic tang of wine and unspoken accusations. Liora's eyes darted toward the exit, but her legs refused to obey; Lucien's gaze pinned her in place like a blade against her throat.
"You'll answer me," he said quietly, yet his voice carried like a command.
"I told you, I wasn't..." She stopped herself, realizing too late that her voice had cracked.
"Weren't what?" Lucien's steps were measured, slow, and deliberate, as if each one was meant to cage her in. "Speaking with Alden's men? Trading information? Or is there a third option you'd prefer not to name?"
Liora forced herself to meet his eyes. "If I wanted to betray you, I would've done it when you left me here without a single guard."
Something flashed in his expression...quick, sharp, gone too soon. "Bold words for someone standing in my house by the mercy of my name."
