The dining room fell silent. Eleanor looked up from her breakfast, eyes darting between her son and Selen. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Selen dabbed her lips with a napkin before responding. "Well, dearest Harry." She smiled sweetly, but her eyes remained calculating. "Why do you ask?"

"Answer the question." Harry's voice was dangerously quiet as he stepped into the room.

"Yes, I was in your room last night," Selen replied, her voice steady despite the ...