Rymora followed the butler back to Lord Drehk's villa, her eyes fixed ahead, refusing to acknowledge the looks of discomfort he cast her way. His distaste was unmistakable—thinly veiled behind the stiff set of his jaw and the impatient tapping of his fingers against his side. It was clear: he didn't like her. Neither did he enjoy being sent to retrieve her.
But Rymora couldn't be bothered. She moved with measured steps, keeping her chin high and her pace calm, ignoring the weight of his judgment. Her boots clicked softly against the polished floor as they entered the grand villa, passing a few quiet servants who bowed respectfully but avoided meeting her gaze.
The butler said nothing as he led her deeper into the villa. Without so much as glancing back, he opened a large ornate door and gestured her inside, stopping short himself and refusing to step in. That alone made her brows twitch in suspicion.
Rymora stepped through—and froze.
