The room was quiet now.Not peacefully quiet — stiflingly quiet.
Avin sat slouched on one of the couches, staring lazily at the chandelier above them as its crystal ornaments swayed gently. The cushions beneath him were so soft they practically swallowed his body, but his mind refused to rest.
Across from him sat Beric, the prince — posture straight, legs crossed neatly, every movement sharp and deliberate. The golden sheen of his uniform caught the light like armor.
And below him, still on the floor, was the boy from earlier — curled up, trembling faintly. He looked pitiful, like a kicked dog trying to make itself invisible.
Avin sighed and rubbed his temple. "Gods, this is awkward."
The silence broke as the door clicked open.
Theo entered, his steps crisp and silent as ever. He carried a tray balanced effortlessly in one hand, two porcelain cups of steaming tea resting on it.
