Kael tilted his head slightly, eyes searching mine. "Did my father say anything strange to you?"
I looked away, swallowing down the bitter taste on my tongue.
Strange? Yeah. He said Kael isn't exactly who he presents himself to be. That underneath all the cold control and charm, he's something far more brutal. Something darker. A version of Kael that doesn't flinch, doesn't care, doesn't love.
But I didn't say that.
Instead, I said, "He mentioned your first love. That's why I asked yesterday... About Ivan."
His body didn't move, not an inch, but something shifted in his eyes.
I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't been staring. If I hadn't memorized the way his lashes lower when he's about to lie, the flicker of grief that tugs at the corners of his mouth before he presses them flat again.
He was… sad.
Not in the Kael Roman way where it's cold and silent and brutal. But real sad. Human sad. The kind that sticks to your ribs like wet fabric.
Ivan.
