The halls of the palace were quiet that evening. Too quiet.
Most of the kingdom had settled into its rhythm—builders working by lamplight, necromancers walking the border wards, market traders packing their stalls. But Riven had left the upper keep behind. He walked the eastern hallways alone, his boots making no sound on the polished blackstone floors.
Except he wasn't alone.
"You look like you have a lot on your mind," Ember said, appearing at the end of the corridor as if she'd been waiting.
She leaned against the stone wall beside a high, narrow window, the violet glow of rune-lanterns washing across her pale features. Her arms were crossed. One foot tapped, ever so slightly, against the floor.
Riven didn't stop. But he did slow.
"Is that so?" he asked.
Ember arched a brow. "Yes, I can tell because you're much more gloomier than usual."
