Seeing him first thing in the morning—before he'd managed to sort out his thoughts—left Sylene stunned, his mind momentarily blank.
The vampire's gaze flicked to the small travel bag slung over Sylene's shoulder. He frowned.
"I see you're eager to return to Forschel," Melchior said mildly. Gentle smile plastered his face.
Sylene nodded, his expression subdued. Fingers gripped tightly on his small bag.
"…Sir," he hesitated, then asked softly, "are you… moving away? Where… where will I find you after my visit is over?"
He looked small as he spoke. Like a wounded little sparrow—uncertain, bracing for rejection.
Melchior paused.
Then realization crossed his face.
"Ah. Right," he said quietly. "I forgot to tell you."
Sylene's heart sank. So he's really abandoned?
"We'll be moving to Forschel as well," Melchior continued.
