Evening draped its indigo veil across the sky, soft and still, as Vyan sat alone in a private chamber of an upscale restaurant in the capital. Golden lamplight flickered against the polished wood walls, casting long, thoughtful shadows. The air was crisp, scented faintly with the last remnants of rain.
He tilted his head slightly, his wine-red eyes gazing through the window where the clouds had parted to reveal a clear, soot-blue sky. A small relief was curled in his chest. The storm that had raged for the last few days had finally quieted.
Maybe there wouldn't be a flood after all. Maybe—for once—his people wouldn't have to suffer. For that, Vyan offered a quiet thanks to Goddess Hecate. Quiet, because he couldn't afford to look soft-hearted. Not in front of anyone.
