The night air over Delwig was calm again, but Arielle's heart wasn't.
After the debrief with General Ivaan, the soldiers dispersed in silence, and the great hall emptied until only echoes of boots remained. Damien had already gone off to gods-knew-where — probably to check on his summons or wander the ramparts, lost in his own thoughts.
Arielle's words stuck to his head more than they shouldn't have and he seemed to need some time alone to process them.
Arielle stood under the flickering torchlight, watching the dark corridors swallow him, her jaw tightening.
"Always disappearing," she muttered under her breath. "Always carrying everything on his own shoulders…"
A soft voice interrupted her thoughts.
"He's like that, isn't he?"
Lyone stood a few paces behind, his cloak slightly torn, dust still on his boots from the tunnels. He looked exhausted but proud — a quiet confidence in his stance that hadn't been there a few days ago.
