Aldric reached them properly then, and Eris got her first clear look at Soren's secretary and closest advisor.
He was younger than she'd expected, perhaps in his late twenties, with dark hair that looked like it might have been neatly styled at some point earlier in the day but had since given up on the concept.
His clothing was impeccable, tailored in the severe style of Nevareth's administrative class, but there was something about the set of his shoulders that suggested exhaustion being held at bay through sheer force of will.
His eyes, when they landed on her, were sharp, assessing, and held something that Eris recognized immediately because she'd seen it countless times throughout her reign.
Disdain.
Subtle, yes. Carefully concealed beneath the appropriate veneer of court manners. But unmistakably there, lurking behind the professional courtesy like ice beneath deceptively calm water.
