That chamber looked like a counselling chamber. It was a counselling chamber. But not exactly as before. When they had gone to war, the builders had made it different for safety. The walls were smooth again, the marble floor polished until it caught the dim light. Faint scents of fresh limewash and oil polish still lingered in the air, mixing with the heavier aroma of parchment and old incense.
Ervin's eyes fell on that room, and for a moment his dull gaze seemed to focus. He had been following his assistant without paying attention to the turns of the corridor. His boots made a muted sound on the floor, each step trailing slightly behind hers. The soft sweep of her robes across the marble seemed to guide him like a tether, his mind drifting elsewhere, following not the path but the rhythm of her movements.
