Ren sat on the edge of the King's Nest, staring at the frying pan on her lap like it was a crystal ball.
"Okay," she whispered to herself. "Channel your inner Meryl Streep. Sad thoughts. Think of burnt soufflés. Think of student loans. Think of the time you dropped a whole pot of stock five minutes before service."
The heavy obsidian doors groaned open.
Syris glided in.
He looked… radiant. His pale skin was glowing, his posture was upright, and there was a subtle, self-satisfied spring in his step that looked entirely out of place for a man about to deliver a death notification.
He stopped in front of the bed. He composed his face, forcing his lips into a somber line, though his amethyst eyes were practically twinkling.
"Ren," Syris said, his voice deep and grave. "I have... news. From the swamp."
Ren looked up, widening her eyes. "News? Did Kael come? Is he at the gates?"
Syris sighed, a long, dramatic exhale. He sat down next to her and placed a cool hand on her shoulder.
