A brief silence stretched between them, awkward and thick, as if the room itself was at a pause. The loudest sound was the ticking second hand of the wall clock, slicing through the tension. Drogo's eyes didn't leave her; her gaze stayed fixed on him, unflinching, with a calm smile playing across her lips.
Finally, he broke the ice. "How's your arm?"
"Fine, actually," she replied, the same smile still present, as though nothing had happened, as though the previous day's chaos had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
With her welcoming expression and calm demeanor, the beauty of her attire was amplified; although it was merely a plain shirt tucked in straight pants, the gold endowment of her jewelries and her sharp midnight makeup tone made her presence both bold and enchanting.
Drogo blinked twice, before letting out a slow exhal. "Okay… If you say so."
"I am fine, thank you for asking." She gave him a subtle bow, as if hus question was about a mere bruise.
