Up in his palace, Glen was still sitting alone on the upper balcony, letting the night breeze brush his tired face. The dry season's wind rolled in slow, carrying the scent of pine from the northern edge of the estate. The sky had begun to shift, not pitch black anymore, but nowhere near blue yet. These in-between hours always stirred up way more thoughts than they had any right to.
Earl Reiner, who'd been chatting with him earlier about things neither of them probably needed to say out loud, had gone back to his guest residence hours ago. Inside the palace, it was quiet. Too quiet. Only the occasional scratch of wind against a branch broke the silence. From his seat, Glen could see part of Eryndalith's rooftops shrouded in a delicate veil of mist. The air had turned colder, but he had no intention of leaving. He sat there, letting the chill sink in and bite a little deeper.
