Daphne walked to the study to meet him.
Not bothering to knock, she entered.
She looked at him, her blue eyes filled with a certainty that disarmed him.
"You're hiding something from me," she said, her voice soft, but firm. "I can feel it. I know you, Alaric."
Alaric's jaw clenched. She called him Alaric, not Ric, not her love.
He hated secrets. He hated them with a passion. And yet, here he was, keeping a secret to protect the only person who mattered.
He turned away, feigning interest in a scroll on his desk. "There are no secrets between us, Daphne."
She stepped closer, her hand resting gently on his arm.
"There are. I can see it in your eyes. You're holding something back."
He sighed, then turned, his hand coming to rest on her cheek.
"Princess... it's the Emperor. He's dying."
The air went still.
Her eyes widened.
"Dying?" she whispered. "No. That can't be true. He... he was... How could he be dying?"
