The heavy doors of the study creaked open as Caelen and Lyra stepped inside, the flickering candlelight stretching their shadows across the floor.
Caelen moved with a soldier's confidence, silver armor gleaming beneath a black surcoat.
Lyra, by contrast, was fluid and quiet, her lean frame wrapped in deep crimson leather and her hair tied in a high messy bun.
Her eyes scanned the room—calculating, wary—as if assessing potential threats even among allies.
Velrosa gave a nod of welcome, then gestured toward the long table in the center of the study.
"Sit. You've both earned your place here. What you'll learn tonight could change the course of your lives—or end them."
Caelen grunted and pulled out a chair, sitting like a knight before war council. Lyra remained standing until Ian offered her a nod of familiarity.
