Herbalists' Cache hold my cup

star eater sighed, the weight of it slipping past her lips like a cold breath into the den’s dim air.
no. i did not.
her gaze did not waver from him, silver eyes steady, searching. there was no amusement in them, no taunt, only something quiet. something calculating.
i want your unfettered opinion on my husband.
there was no preamble, no softening of the words. she spoke as she always had—with purpose.
she watched him now, waiting. waiting for the truth, for the judgment she knew he carried but had yet to voice. blackfell had never been a man without opinion, and she had never been a woman to shy from it.