"You'll have to forgive me," Rauk said, pouring deep red wine into a glass. "We don't have ale. Try this instead."
They were seated in what Kaedros guessed was a study. Dusty old tomes lined the walls, many bound in cracked leather. A few broken weapons hung from hooks, dull reminders of forgotten battles. Rauk had cleared just enough space on the table for the wine.
Kaedros lifted the glass and took a sniff. The wine was rich, dark, almost like blood. But it tasted like crushed fruit. Vibrant. Full of life.
"Red wine is enough," he said, and took a seat across from Rauk.
As he drank, Vexa loomed silently behind her master, her eyes locked on Kaedros like a drawn blade.
"I can't help but notice the absence of servants," Kaedros said. "Or life, for that matter. This whole place is dead quiet."
Rauk took a slow sip. "My father gave up on Solmere years ago. The only thing he ever cared about here was the Vines. And even that wasn't enough to fight for."
