Chapter 174: Shadows, Wine, and an Inconvenient Realization
Zorathys's bedroom was drowned in darkness.
Not the gentle, ambient kind that suggested rest or sleep—but the thick, deliberate sort, the kind that swallowed light whole and left nothing behind. The shadows in the room did not merely exist; they moved. They clung to the walls, pooled on the ceiling, stretched languidly across the floor.
It seemed like they too were resting, just as Zorathys was. There was no single light in the room at all, and that wasn't surprising. Zorathys did whatever he liked in his bedroom, as did his shadows.
Zorathys lay comfortably atop his massive bed, propped against the dark headboard, a glass of deep red wine resting loosely in his hand, swirling as he rotated the glass with lazy precision.
Naviel stood at a distance from the foot of the bed. Uncomfortable was an understatement regarding what he was feeling right now.
