The air in the study seemed to be sucked away in an instant, condensing into a heavy block of ice.
Grand Duke Kelin unconsciously rubbed his fingertips along the wood grain at the edge of his desk, worn smooth by the years. The ridges of his fingertips crossed the grain, yet could not conceal the sharpness surging in his eyes. He had spent centuries amid political intrigue, maneuvering among the duchy's ministers, neighboring nobles, and even papal envoys. His thoughts were as intricate as a chess game woven from countless threads; not the slightest unusual movement escaped his notice.
In a single instant, he caught something unusual in the way Shiheng and Kelin Xiaoman stood side by side-the distance between them was barely half a foot, and their steps were as coordinated as though rehearsed a thousand times. When Shiheng turned to look at Xiaoman, a barely perceptible tenderness lay hidden in his eyes, utterly different from the composure he usually showed everyone else. And when Kelin Xiaoman looked at Shiheng, her gaze held none of a noble young lady's reserve, only undisguised reliance and concern. Those tiny threads of affection intertwined like a needle, gently piercing the surface calm.
He did not point it out directly. Instead, he slowly raised his eyes and fixed his gaze on Shiheng. His voice retained its deep resonance, but now carried a sharper, appraising edge, like a steel needle quenched in ice. "Why are you two together? Shiheng, if I remember correctly, weren't you recuperating from your injuries in the Feng Lai Kingdom?"
Shiheng stepped forward, standing tall as a pine, his back perfectly straight without the slightest stoop. He wore the duchy army's close-fitting uniform, washed until it had faded somewhat, yet it could not hide the steady presence that had settled