Reyes's expression shifted, the pragmatic commander resurfacing. He released Viana gently, moving with the quiet efficiency of a warrior.
"They will be looking for us both," he said, rising from the bed. He smoothed down his tunic, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "There is much to do."
"Indeed," she replied, her voice firmer. She looked at Reyes, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.
He moved down from the bed, then went out from her room, again from balcony. Viana watched him, then sat up, pulling the blanket around her.
***
Meanwhile, far to the south, in the hidden fortress of Count Lazarus Bloodworth, anger simmered like a venomous cauldron.
The chamber was opulent, yet dark, lit by flickering oil lamps that cast dancing shadows across tapestries depicting ancient, forgotten wars. Lazarus sat at a massive obsidian table, his face a mask of barely controlled fury. Before him, a nervous courier knelt, clutching a crumpled report.
