Shadows Beneath the Throne
Finally, he smiled—slow, rueful, and tired. "You always were too sharp for your own good."
"And you always forget I'm on your side," Anna countered softly.
He didn't respond.
The silence stretched between them, long enough to feel like a breath held too long. The only sound was the faint hiss of candlelight and the distant sigh of the night wind brushing against the tall windows.
Then Anna leaned forward, resting a hand gently on the table beside his. Her fingers hovered close to his, close enough that their warmth almost touched. "Whatever you're keeping from me, Ben…" her voice dropped to a near whisper, "…I'll find out anyway. So you might as well start talking."
Ben stared at her, startled by the quiet steel in her tone. Patience—tempered by the kind of power only someone who truly knew him could wield.
