Brimsley gasped, "She knows," as he watched Madeline, his eyes reflecting a mix of fear, fascination, and awe. How did she recognize him and manage to conceal any hint of fear or inclination to flee?
"She knows," he repeated, still unable to believe what he was hearing.
"Brimsley," Madeline's voice was sharp as she spoke, arms crossed as she stared at her husband. "Is it true that my blood could save him?" She had seen the pain in his eyes and his hand clutching his chest, but now he seemed to be hiding it.
"My... my... Qu... ee..." Brimsley stuttered, fear evident in his wide eyes. No, she couldn't possibly know about the prophecy, right? His eyes darted to Draven, who shook his head. "I'm afraid... I do not... understand," he bit his lip, wondering how to navigate this situation. If she knew nothing, it wasn't his place to explain, and if she did, it still wasn't his place to clarify.
