Silas caught up with Loretta in the eastern corridor just before she reached the staircase that led toward the upper wing of the pack house.
Loretta heard his footsteps behind her, yet she did not slow down immediately. She walked for several more steps as though deciding whether acknowledging his presence was necessary, before finally coming to a halt beside one of the tall stone pillars that supported the hallway arches.
Her fingers tightened faintly around the edge of her sleeve, a small unconscious gesture that betrayed the tension she worked so carefully to conceal.
Silas stood watching her.
His expression remained calm, composed in the manner of a man who was accustomed to holding power quietly rather than displaying it openly.
Yet his eyes carried the attentive stillness of someone who suspected that something had gone wrong, the kind of observation that missed nothing but revealed nothing in return.
"What is the problem?" he asked.
