Verret’s Pov

The silence between us stretched like a blade, sharp and taunting. She walked beside me, her steps slow but purposeful, her eyes fixed ahead as though every petal and leaf offended her existence. I could hear the rustle of her gown brushing against the gravel path, soft and rhythmic — a sound that did something strange to me. I hated it. I wanted it louder. I wanted her voice louder.

The gardens of my mansion looked alive under the dim morning light, vines climbing the marble pillars, roses half-bloomed, and the distant fountain whispering water songs. But she — she was quieter than all of it. And somehow,...