The stone in the northern courtyard was softened by the snow, which fell in languid spirals and gave it an appearance of being nearly soft.
From the window of his study, Fenris observed it with his arms crossed behind his back and his red eyes fixed on the corridor beyond the storm.
The East Wing.
He disliked that room. Too many mirrors. There were way too many images of forefathers who simply observed everything but had nothing to say. Now that Kaelen's cousin's laughter echoed throughout it like spilled wine, it had become his favorite wing. Thin. Pleasant and staining.
Fenris shifted his gaze away from the window.
Before he heard it, he sensed it: a subtle change in the rhythm of the house.
The East Wing had been entered by the human.
Sayori.
He shouldn't have even seen her.
After years of being kept in cages, she was nothing—thin, silent, and bone-white beneath the skin. Unless invited, her voice could hardly be heard. She also flinched at shadows and bowed too low. She was swallowed whole by the castle.
And yet.
He saw her.
She paid attention without interrupting. There was no waste during the move. Recalled specific items that most people would disregard.
Sayori also saw it in a castle where everyone exercised power.
Her usefulness was derived from that. Which ought to have been sufficient.
However, it wasn't only that.
He was disturbed by her.
Not because she was a threat.
Because she wasn't.
She was a flame flickering in a hall of storms—fragile, yet unyielding.
In addition, a portion of him—maybe long since deceased and buried with his mother—wished to know whether it could be defended.
Fenris was perched on the edge of the huge desk. unrolled a map.
He didn't pay it any attention.
His thoughts were in the East Wing. About Kaelen. Upon the wine that Aelira had asked for. About guests he hadn't called, on whispers.
And a human girl shouldn't be walking through hallways.
He was unconcerned about her safety.
He was concerned about what she may discover.
And what he may do with the information.
Once more, Fenris stood up.
relocated to the side table.
He didn't pour himself a thing. just stood there.
Outside, the snow became thicker.
Even when he was motionless, his werewolf senses were acute, and his ears twitched.
He shouldn't worry about her well-being.
However, he did.
Not because he was weak.
Because Sayori was the first thing in years to break the old silence within him. Avoid breaking it. Don't break it.
Simply... disrupt it.
Similar to a wave in deep water.
He murmured, "Return," as his breath fogged the glass.
"And tell me what they're hiding."