[Alvar's POV—The Same Day—Morning—Before Marriage Proposal—Warehouse]
"...Did you get the herbs I asked for?"
Eryndor's voice was calm but firm, his eyes fixed on the young elf woman who placed a bundle of leaves and roots in his hands.
"Yes, my lord. We went to the exact location you mentioned. This… this is everything we found."
He nodded once, his long fingers brushing across the herbs, separating good from spoiled. "Good. You've done well."
The woman's lips curled into a small smile before she bowed and returned to her work.
When the warehouse fell silent again, I caught the faintest whisper from him. "But… that flower is still missing." His hand lingered on a wilted stalk before he exhaled softly. "…I suppose I should stop dreaming of ever finding it."
"...I can get them."
My voice broke the silence.
He did not startle, did not flinch. Eryndor merely lifted his head and looked at me standing in the doorway, his gaze flat and unbothered.
