Chapter 265: The Quiet Vow
Mihos began walking toward the guest wing Dickoff had prepared, then stopped halfway and added, with deliberate carelessness, "And make sure the man we send understands this. He is not representing kindness. He is carrying the authority of Dawn House. I want to see what Sekhmet shows when he thinks he is looking at family."
Dickoff remained seated for several seconds after the young heir was gone, staring at the doorway like a man who had survived a private storm only to realize tomorrow’s weather had been arranged by the same sky.
.
.
.
A few hours later... The next morning arrived too gently for what it carried.
That was the point.
It should sound like breakfast.
Today.
Not a revelation.
A vow.
The world had not stopped. It had only become more dangerous. And more his.
Sekhmet did not need to ask who it was.
Elena stepped inside with the calm of someone who had already been awake for several hours, given twelve instructions, fixed three potential disasters, and silently prepared for five more. She wore simple dark clothing, practical and sharp, with nothing in her appearance to suggest she was about to stand witness to a private marriage by noon.
"You are awake."
"You look like you slept badly."
Elena came farther inside and set a folded set of clothing on the chair near his bed. Not ceremonial in the loud sense. No gold peacock nonsense. No bright wedding embroidery. It was exactly the sort of thing she would choose for him. Dark, clean, elegant, and controlled. The outer robe was black with a deep red inner lining, the trim narrow and refined rather than decorative. The sort of clothing a man could speak serious vows in without feeling like he had been dressed by a musician with emotional problems.
Sekhmet looked at them. "You expected me to dress badly."
That was fair.
"Elena."
"Thank you."
That almost made him smile.
Elena’s gaze lingered on him for another moment, reading more than he liked and less than he feared. "Eat something before the vow."
"That was not a request."
"I become more practical when men become dramatic."
Sekhmet dressed slowly after that, each movement feeling more deliberate than it should have. By the time he fastened the last layer and adjusted the sleeves, he looked less like someone recovering from a week of blood, revelations, and hidden war, and more like a young man standing at the center of a decision he meant to keep.
Elsewhere in the house, Lily arrived in ordinary clothes.
She came through the side entrance in a soft, pale dress suitable for an afternoon visit, her hair partly tied back, her face almost calm if one did not know how to read her. Anyone who saw her from a distance would think she had come for tea or conversation or another one of her increasingly frequent visits to the lower Dawn House.
The extra stillness in her shoulders. The way her eyes moved through the halls with too much attention. The way her fingers curled and uncurled near the seams of her sleeves as if reminding themselves that flesh still belonged to her.
Lily stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
Only a little.
Elena turned from the side table where a garment lay folded.
"That sounds dangerously like praise."
Lily exhaled softly and stepped farther in. Then she noticed the dress on the table.
It was not loud. Not grand. Not the sort of bridal thing rich girls sometimes dreamed about with too many ribbons and not enough breath. It was elegant in the exact way Elena would choose if she wanted beauty without foolishness. The dress was layered white at first glance, though closer inspection revealed soft silver underthreads and very faint dawn-pale embroidery along the collar and sleeves.