The kitchen smelled of grilled vegetables and simmering broth.
Holden stood at the stove, stirring a pot with practiced ease. Maeve sat at the table with her new Bestiary volumes spread out around her, a rare specimen preservation kit open beside her notes. She'd barely touched the gold coins he'd brought home, too excited about the research materials to think about spending them yet.
"Lyra's leaving the academy," Holden said casually. "An arranged marriage. Some third-year royal prodigy."
Thump.
The heavy Bestiary book hit the table hard enough to rattle the preservation kit.
Maeve pushed her glasses up and looked at him like she was furious. Her eyes narrowed behind the lenses.
"What did you say to her?"
Holden kept stirring. "I told her it was her noble family business and she should do what she thinks is best."
"Holden Voss." Maeve's voice was dangerously calm. "Are you serious right now?"
"It's the practical answer."
