The drive to Baron Dresthorne's estate passed in near silence, the easy rapport of previous days noticeably absent. Aiden glanced sideways at Morgana more than once, noting the tightness around her eyes, the way her fingers drummed once against her knee before stilling deliberately, a control so precise it was almost more telling than if she'd simply fidgeted freely.
"You've been quiet." he finally said, unable to ignore it any longer.
"I'm focused on the mission." she replied, not looking at him.
"That's not the same thing, and you know it."
Morgana's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Some things aren't yours to worry about, Aiden."
The words landed harder than she'd intended, and for a moment, silence stretched between them, heavier than any that had passed since their earliest, most hostile encounters. Aiden didn't push further, though something in his expression made clear he'd registered the sharpness, and perhaps understood, without being told, that whatever weighed on her ran deeper than she was willing to share.
"Fair enough." he said quietly, returning his attention to the road ahead, though the quiet hurt in his voice was impossible to fully mask.
The rest of the drive continued without conversation, the comfortable ease they'd built over the past days replaced by a distance neither of them quite knew how to close. Morgana stared out the window, frustrated with herself for the curtness of her own response, yet unable to find the words to soften it without revealing more than she was ready to. She thought, briefly, of simply telling him — of the crown, the ceremony, the six weeks ticking down — but the thought stalled the moment it formed, too large and unwieldy to fit into the small space of a car ride to a mission.
Aiden, for his part, kept glancing at the passing city, running through a dozen possible explanations for her withdrawal, none of which he allowed himself to voice. He recognized the particular quality of her silence — not anger, but something closer to a wall going up, brick by careful brick, and some old, tired part of him understood that wall better than he wanted to admit, having built more than a few of his own over the years.
When they finally arrived at the looming estate gates, both of them shifted automatically into professional focus, grateful, in a way neither would admit aloud, for the mission ahead giving them something else to concentrate on besides the unresolved tension sitting quietly between them.
"Let's finish this." Morgana said, checking her weapon, her voice clipped but steady.
"Agreed." Aiden replied, and though the words were simple, something in his tone suggested the conversation was far from over — merely postponed, waiting for a moment neither of them could yet predict.
You've reached the end of this chapter
The drive to Baron Dresthorne's estate passed in near silence, the easy rapport of previous days noticeably absent. Aiden glanced sideways at Morgana more than once, noting the tightness around her eyes, the way her fingers drummed once against her knee before stilling deliberately, a control so precise it was almost more telling than if she'd simply fidgeted freely.
"You've been quiet." he finally said, unable to ignore it any longer.
"I'm focused on the mission." she replied, not looking at him.
"That's not the same thing, and you know it."
Morgana's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Some things aren't yours to worry about, Aiden."
The words landed harder than she'd intended, and for a moment, silence stretched between them, heavier than any that had passed since their earliest, most hostile encounters. Aiden didn't push further, though something in his expression made clear he'd registered the sharpness, and perhaps understood, without being told, that whatever weighed on her ran deeper than she was willing to share.
"Fair enough." he said quietly, returning his attention to the road ahead, though the quiet hurt in his voice was impossible to fully mask.
The rest of the drive continued without conversation, the comfortable ease they'd built over the past days replaced by a distance neither of them quite knew how to close. Morgana stared out the window, frustrated with herself for the curtness of her own response, yet unable to find the words to soften it without revealing more than she was ready to. She thought, briefly, of simply telling him — of the crown, the ceremony, the six weeks ticking down — but the thought stalled the moment it formed, too large and unwieldy to fit into the small space of a car ride to a mission.
Aiden, for his part, kept glancing at the passing city, running through a dozen possible explanations for her withdrawal, none of which he allowed himself to voice. He recognized the particular quality of her silence — not anger, but something closer to a wall going up, brick by careful brick, and some old, tired part of him understood that wall better than he wanted to admit, having built more than a few of his own over the years.
When they finally arrived at the looming estate gates, both of them shifted automatically into professional focus, grateful, in a way neither would admit aloud, for the mission ahead giving them something else to concentrate on besides the unresolved tension sitting quietly between them.
"Let's finish this." Morgana said, checking her weapon, her voice clipped but steady.
"Agreed." Aiden replied, and though the words were simple, something in his tone suggested the conversation was far from over — merely postponed, waiting for a moment neither of them could yet predict.
You've reached the end of this chapter