Night settled over the Dramhiri palace like a living thing.
The heat did not fade with the sun; it merely softened, turning from blistering to heavy, clinging warmth that pressed against skin and breath alike. Shadows stretched long across black stone corridors, curling along gothic arches and clawing up the walls as torchlight flickered low.
Aurelia sat on the edge of the bed assigned to her, fingers twisting into the thin desert linen of her nightwear. The chamber was vast, carved from obsidian stone, its ceiling arched high like the ribcage of some ancient beast. Tall windows stood open, draped with sheer crimson fabric that swayed lazily in the night breeze, letting in the scent of sand and smoke.
She had just begun to relax...just begun to believe she would be alone....
When the door opened.
Aurelia's spine stiffened instantly.
Malion stepped inside as if the room had always belonged to him.
