“Love did not repair Rhen,” Mary continued. “Leena never expected it to. She simply gave him one place where he did not have to pretend his emptiness was absolute.”
Mary crossed to the wardrobe and opened it.
Velvet, silk, and softer cotton garments hung in careful rows. She moved through them before selecting an ivory dress lined with midnight-colored thread and cut low across the back.
“Try this.”
Veya accepted the fabric with a strange ache.
“It is beautiful.”
“Leena wore it during her pregnancy, on the first day Norse kicked strongly enough for Sule to feel him.”
Veya’s fingers tightened carefully around the dress.
“Thank you.”
The door struck the wall with enough force to fracture the quiet.
Rhen stood upon the threshold.
His shoulders filled the doorway, and his silver eyes moved immediately to the dress in Veya’s hands.
“Put that down.”
The words emerged quietly, carrying more threat than a shout.
Mary stepped between them.
“She needed clothes.”
“Not hers.”
“Leena owned more dresses than she could ever have worn again.”
Rhen’s gaze moved to Mary.
“You brought her into this room.”
“Where else should I have taken her? She cannot continue walking around half-dressed because you refuse to acknowledge the consequences of your own actions.”
“Get her out.”
Mary did not move.
“This was Leena’s home, not a tomb.”
The air changed.
Rhen’s attention sharpened until the room seemed to narrow around him.
“Do not tell me what Leena would have wanted.”
“I knew her too.”
“You knew what she allowed you to see.”
Mary lifted her chin.
