The bright morning sun spilled through the tall glass windows of the Rowan's study. The velvet curtains had been pulled back, revealing a clear, blue London sky. Outside in the manicured gardens, the cheerful chirping of morning birds was ringing in his ears. It was a beautiful, peaceful sound, completely at odds with the heavy tension filling the room.
Rowan stood behind his desk. He wore a crisp white linen shirt and dark trousers. He had flatly refused to stay in bed any longer, despite the doctor's strict orders. The bandage on his head had been replaced with a smaller, more discreet dressing, but the dark bruises on his jaw still marked his handsome face.
He rested his large hands flat on the polished wood of his desk, leaning forward slightly.
"So, what did you find?" Rowan asked, his deep voice tight with frustration.
