Lila
I was brushing out my hair by the window when the mind-link pierced through. The pressure hit behind my eyes like a vice. It started as a prickling along the base of my skull—then sharpened. I knew the sensation well.
Lila.
His voice slithered through my mind.
I froze, the cool night air brushing against my cheek from the cracked open pane. My pulse stuttered. Yes, Father?
It’s been too long since your last report. His tone was smooth but cold. I hear whispers of a private date. A balcony rendezvous. You’ve had his attention and I assume you’ve done something productive with it?
I kept my jaw clenched, fists curling around the sill. We spoke. He’s aware of your desire for a Council seat. I delivered your message.
I don’t want interest anymore, he snapped. I want commitment.
