As Ingrid stood before Caym, the dim light from the fireplace cast dancing shadows across the room, enveloping them in a soft glow. She held her hands behind her back, a coy smile playing at the corners of her lips as she met Caym's gaze.
"Grand Commander, I lied before," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying a weight of sincerity.
Caym arched an eyebrow in curiosity, the flickering light reflecting in his unreadable amber eyes. "Lied?" he echoed, his tone tinged with intrigue.
Ingrid's breath hitched, a fleeting flicker of uncertainty shadowing her smile. Her gaze drifted downward, her fingers absently tracing the contours of the scissors she held behind her back. "When I asked you to keep your distance," she murmured, "I never truly wished for it."
Her words hung in the air, a confession laid bare for Caym to hear.
