Rhaegal didn't return to the camp immediately. Instead, he slipped into the forest, vanishing between the trees without a sound—like a shadow carried on the wind.
Back at camp, Malin sat inside the tent when he heard the faint crackle of firewood outside. Curious, he stepped out.
A small fire had been lit nearby, and Eugene was crouched beside it, stirring something inside a copper pot. The smell of herbs and boiling meat drifted into the air, making Malin's stomach grumble.
Eugene looked up at him. "Take a seat. Dinner will be ready soon."
Malin eyed him carefully. Eugene wasn't the type to be openly friendly. Usually, he ignored Malin completely or worse, teased him.
Was this another trick?
Still, Malin gave a small shrug and sat down across from him. They both stared into the fire, silent, until Eugene finally spoke.
"Where did you live before Lord Rhaegal brought you to the mansion?" he asked.
