Her lips parted slightly as if to ask the questions aloud, but she stopped herself, exhaling through her nose instead. She despised unanswered questions, yet here she was, drowning in them. It was infuriating. She prided herself on knowing things others didn't—seeing threads of fate where others saw only chaos. And yet… this boy was a blind spot in the grand design.
She scowled to herself. "I do not like blind spots."
No matter which way she turned the puzzle pieces in her mind, they only led to more questions—each one more tangled than the last.
She exhaled slowly, turning her gaze to her daughter. How did she even form a connection with this man?
A smile touched her lips, gentle yet laced with the weight of silent contemplation. Her daughter had spoken of him, but even before this, there had been something—a pull. Madame Seranova had felt it, like a whisper at the edge of fate.
And yet… she had never foreseen this.
