A sly smirk curled on the Witch of the North's lips as she leaned ever so slightly toward him. "Oh my… You didn't know about her connection to Max, like they were brother and sister? did you?" she teased, her voice laced with amusement and just the right amount of malice to make Lucien's stomach twist.
His expression, so often nonchalant, instantly shifted into something far more serious—taut, tense—before sheer disbelief swept over him. "Don't tell me…" he whispered, his voice barely holding its steadiness, "don't tell me the little girl you mentioned in that story… was Freya?" He shot to his feet, eyes wide in stunned realization.
