Rivena went still.
For a heartbeat, she said nothing—then her lips parted in a slow, amused smile, as if Trafalgar's rejection had unlocked something she'd been waiting for.
"You know," she said lightly, her voice slipping into something softer, more poisonous, "you used to be much quieter." Her eyes traced his profile, lingering. "Back when you couldn't talk back. Back when you couldn't resist." She tilted her head, studying him with open curiosity now. "I almost miss that version of you."
The blade hovered near his throat again, not pressing, just close enough to remind him it was there.
"Maybe," she continued, lowering her voice, "you've forgotten how it felt." A pause, savoring the moment. "We could fix that. Try again. See how much you've really changed."
Something in Trafalgar snapped.
He turned.
Fully this time.
