Seconds of an awkward silence ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity as the words slowly settled in. The air grew thick with tension and his voice, devoid of emotion, cut through the stillness in his mind like a knife, leaving him slightly bemused. Through his peripheral vision, he stared at the mortal while his mind grappled to make sense of the news. The woman who birthed the mortal was dead? All this time, he thought his mother was still alive but she died.
When did she die?
Luciano searched his features, expecting to find a glimmer of the grief that surely must be consuming him, but his expression surprisingly remained unreadable, a stoic mask concealing the true turmoil within.
