Pearl POV
The corridor felt impossibly bright after the hush of my chamber. My skirts whispered against the marble as I stepped out, Cecil’s fingers still warm in mine. For a moment I let myself believe the day could be ordinary, just a meeting, a face to introduce, a smile and then perhaps, some small mercy.
Then I saw him.
Demyan stood there like a monument carved from dusk and fire, his back to me. The red of his cloak bled into the dark floor, a river of silk pooling and dragging at his heels. Even turned away, he took up the space as if the hall itself had been built for him to inhabit. My breath hitched.
He turned slowly, and the world narrowed to the angle of his shoulders, the sweep of his cloak, the way light caught the edge of the royal clasp at his throat. He scanned me, not
