Samira closed the door behind her with a firm but discreet click. Outside, in the narrow corridor of ancient stone, the air seemed cooler. Lighter. Or perhaps it was just the restrained relief—the kind that comes when long-buried words finally find air.
She let out a slow, almost inaudible sigh.
"How did it go?" The deep, calm voice came from the shadow on the right.
Strax was there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, as if he had always been part of the place. His amber eyes watched Samira with an attention that was not curiosity—it was care. He knew what that conversation cost.
Samira didn't answer right away. She just walked over to him, her steps precise, her chin up, but her shoulders... her shoulders had slumped a little.
"She's fine, apparently," she said at last, without looking directly at him.
Strax nodded slightly. "And so are you. I thought you were scared."
