When Sylvia reached Aldric's chambers, she found them as she always did. It was strewn with clutter, papers spilling like a tide, books stacked at dangerous angles, and an oil lamp still burning precariously close to a scatter of ledgers. It was reckless, almost inviting disaster.
A fire waiting to happen… or some venomous creature nesting in the chaos, she thought, though it wasn't the mess that made her chest ache.
It was his absence.
Her eyes swept the room, searching for the tall, infuriating figure, but all she found was silence. Then, her breath caught. Amid the parchment and ink, one sheet lay differently. A quill rested across it, as if abandoned mid-thought. And written at the top, in a hand he rarely used, were two words that set her heart racing.
Dearest Sylvia.
Her lips curved without her willing it. The words blurred as her pulse thundered in her ears. She read on.
I'll be out for a while.
