Lucian eased himself backward, step by careful step, eyes fixed on the sleeping figure in the chair. He didn't trust distance unless he made it himself. Seris didn't move. Her breathing stayed smooth and light. It felt unnatural seeing her like this, folded into calm instead of blade-edge rigor.
He didn't turn until he reached the far shelf.
Quenya shimmered into view beside him, only a palm high, her expression pinched with frustration.
"I searched," she murmured. "I checked the room the staff said is hers. Nothing. No box. Nothing that looks hidden either."
Lucian clicked his tongue. "Expected."
He hadn't counted on Seris leaving something that important out in the open. If anything, she would hide it behind something trivial or bury it in some locked recess this house probably had dozens of.
"As long as it isn't tracked," he muttered. "If she kept it close, that's trouble."
Quenya tilted her head. "You want to keep looking?"
