#Chapter 205: The Council Fractures

Richard I brought her breakfast myself. She was curled against the headboard when I entered, her hair tangled and the tray on the nightstand untouched. She didn’t startle, just lifted her eyes to mine with a quiet, watchful look that hadn’t quite softened since she came back. I set the tray down, something still warm on it, and crossed the room without speaking, though the silence between us was thick with what hadn’t been said yet. “Hey,” I said quietly, settling on the edge of the bed. She blinked slowly. “Is it already morning?” I nodded. “You slept through most of the night. That’s a good thing.” “I don’t feel rested,” she murmured. “I feel like I lost time again.” “You didn’t,” I said, brushing the hair back from her face with care, holding her gaze until she blinked again. “You’ve been grounded the whole time. You’re here. And I’m here.” She didn’t answer right away. Her fingers clutched the blanket loosely, and her breathing stayed shallow. “You have to go soon.”