Morning came.
Kaelith woke with a low groan, stretching against the silken sheets.
The air was still, too still. Not the lively hum of his palace, where servants' footsteps and distant chatter stirred the mornings awake. Here, the silence felt a bit heavier.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and padded to the window.
Below, the courtyard was already alive with movement, guards drilling in neat formations, spears and swords flashing.
A slow smirk tugged at his lips.
'Perhaps a little training wouldn't hurt. My mana could use the push.'
He stifled a yawn, only for his stomach to answer with a loud, impatient growl. He ignored it.
Pulling on light training robes, he left his chamber, the soft rustle of his boot echoing faintly down the corridor.
His mind, however, wasn't on the path before him.
"Uncle's words… maybe he's right. Those spell books should be mine.'
Another thought followed quickly after. 'And Virelle… why wasn't she at dinner last night?'
