Eldrun folded his arms, the glow from the binding circle slowly dimming. "That beast will hatch within the next twenty-four hours," he said. "Until then, keep it near. Let your mana settle around it."
Fenric nodded, scooping the egg into the special velvet-lined container provided. Its surface still shimmered faintly—warm to the touch, alive with anticipation.
Roman silently stepped beside him. The two left the chamber, and Eldrun gave them a parting nod of respect. "Good luck, Prince. You'll need it."
Later that day…
Fenric, rather than returning straight to the palace, decided to detour. He hadn't eaten since morning, and the soft hum of mana usage left his body aching for something real. Something warm.
He stopped at The Sun King's Rest, a renowned high-tier restaurant nestled between noble plazas. Built with radiant goldwood beams and sun-crystal windows, it was famous not only for its cuisine, but for its private upper floors, which catered to the elite.
