Elysia stood just outside Malvoria's office, arms crossed tightly, her mind an absolute mess of contradictions.
The corridor was quiet, save for the occasional passing servant who kept giving her curious glances—because, really, what was she doing here?
She should turn around, pretend she had never walked all this way just to stand like an idiot in front of a closed door.
But she didn't move.
She chewed on the inside of her cheek, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, glaring at the heavy wooden door as if it would suddenly fling itself open and provide her with an answer.
The problem was simple—Malvoria was avoiding her.
Avoiding her in a way that was so blatant it was almost insulting.
One week.
One week of silence, one week of absence, one week of feeling an emptiness she shouldn't even feel in the first place. Malvoria had gone from feeding her, teasing her, touching her, kissing her, to suddenly vanishing into her office and refusing to be seen. And Elysia?
