The expression on his face is disjointed as he struggles to make sense of what’s unravelling before him—it shatters into fear before transforming into scrutiny and then darkening into something that might just be hunger. He studies her, eyes flicking to each one of hers, down the slope of her nose, lingering on her mouth before straying down the length of her neck. The locket singes against her chest with his attention but then the silver in his eyes flashes and he’s looking at her face again and the mess of curls around her head like a crown.