Confused and disturbed by the Swan Divina's words, the Dowager stepped out of the tower, her steps unsteady on the ancient stone. The early morning sun cast long shadows through the cloistered arches, and standing in one of them was the last person she wished to see.
Leroy.
Tall. Unmoved. His mask gleamed faintly in the sunlight, obscuring all but the sharp glint of green eyes that watched her from the shade.
"Am I unwelcome?" he asked, voice even, unreadable.
The Dowager halted, her breath catching for the briefest moment before she composed herself. "That depends. Were you invited?"
He gave no answer. Just silence… cool, weighty silence. Behind the mask, his gaze held her.
She inhaled deeply, as though exhaling might rid her of whatever ghost had just gripped her ribs. "You didn't visit me after your return," she said finally, almost softly. "I waited."
Leroy lowered his head, not quite a bow. But the gesture stopped just shy of reverence. Then he turned his face away.
