Chapter 192: The Empty Room

Days to the final fiddle trill, the worn-out laughter, and the crystal glass memory of days past. Yet the taste of it all lingered with Harrison.

He hadn't seen her since.

Initially, it hadn't affected him this much. He'd sat and thought to himself that Leya was pouting, always just out of his grasp. He'd imagined she was in her bedroom, crying or pacing, starving until she relented again. And he'd teased her for it, laughed.

Let her pout. Let her learn.

She would crawl back when she was done with her pout.

That's what he'd been telling himself.

Days passed.

The house was spacious but not infinite. His servants complained as they darted toward him, catching his eye but he did not wish to see even a hint of her anywhere—outside the dining room, outside the gardens, outside the solitude of his own bedchamber. And yet for pride, would not give in.

Until tonight.

Something held him there at her door down the hallway. A silence that ran deeper than a grievance in his heart. Some