Madeleina raised her head.
Her silver-blue eyes met Duke Thaddeus' unwavering gaze, steady, unflinching.
She did not lower herself in submission.
She did not avert her gaze in guilt.
Because she was not guilty.
"Why did I do that?"
She repeated his question—not as a stall, not as deflection, but because she wanted to understand.
Understand what, exactly, he was asking.
Did he want her to say it outright? Did he want her to explain every thought, every decision, as if he was some ignorant child who could not comprehend the truth before him?
As if he had not felt it himself all these years?
She did not waver.
"Yes."
His voice was cold, sharpened into something far more dangerous than open rage.
"Why did you betray me?"
A lesser woman would have flinched.
But Madeleina?
She did not even blink.
i
Because she hadn't.
Not once.
Not in all these years.
