“Yes.” I gesture stiffly. Too stiff. “Well—theideais dinner. The food will be brought in later. This is… wine.”
Very smooth, Neslihan. Astounding eloquence.
He raises a brow, amused despite himself. “I can see that.”
I gesture again, because apparently my hands have revolted against me and are now doing interpretive dance. “Please. Sit.”
He does, sliding into the high-backed chair, watching me with the quiet wariness of a predator trying to decide whether the trap is worth stepping into.
I take my seat across from him, uncork the wine, and try not to look like someone that never does this themselves.
He accepts his glass. I cling to mine like it’s emotional support stemware.
“So,” I say brightly, grasping for anything to fill the air, “the weather was nice today.”
He gives me a slow blink. “We live in magically regulated territory.”
“Yes. But that means the weather is… consistently nice.”
His mouth twitches—not in irritation, but in a laugh he refuses to let escape.
I take a sip of wine to stop myself from speaking any more rubbish. Why is this so hard?
“So…”I try again. “How was your day?”
He takes a thoughtful sip, then sets the glass down. “Busy.”
“You helped the refugees,” I say before I can stop myself.
His gaze sharpens, but he doesn’t look away.
“I saw you, from the window.”
Something shifts in his posture—not embarrassment, not pride, something more complicated. More raw.
“You gave them shelter,” I continue, softer. “Made sure each family had a place to sleep. You promised them food —and actually stayed to speak with them. Learn who they lost. Who they still had. You calmed them, Kaan.”
He exhales slowly. “They needed stability.”
“Shadow Lords don’t do that.” My voice cracks on the truth of it. “They rule from a distance. They stay untouchable. They command fear.”
He looks away, jaw tight.
“You didn’t command fear today,” I whisper. “You gave them hope.”
His throat bobs.
“It wasn’t—” He clears his throat. “It wasn’t anything special.”
“It was everything.”
The words hang between us, glowing and dangerous.
The silence stretches between us, heavy with unsaid things. I take a deep breath, steeling myself. It's now or never.
"Kaan, I need to talk about...about the baby."
He stiffens, but nods for me to continue.
