Irina paused mid-chew, her fork hovering a few inches above her plate.
Her brows pulled together—not in suspicion, but with that quiet tilt of curiosity she always reserved for moments when Astron broke from his usual pattern.
"…What do you mean?" she asked, tone neither alarmed nor dismissive. Just level. "Feel what?"
Astron didn't answer right away. He stood at the kitchen counter still, the skillet crackling softly behind his words. A flick of his wrist turned the flank slices, letting the mana-infused oils coat the underside. The scent of seared herb and marrow filled the space, grounding the atmosphere in something warm—mundane, even.
But his voice wasn't casual.
"Yesterday," he said, without looking up. "When Leonard released his spell."
A soft hiss from the pan punctuated the silence that followed.
Irina leaned back into the couch, the half-finished bite cooling on her fork. Her gaze narrowed slightly—not confused, but focused.
