“Enter.”
The door opened and closed, and Emer lifted his head from the pile of papers on his desk, watching Nykka as he strode soundlessly toward him. His expression was haggard, as if he hadn’t slept well, and the dangerous glint in his eyes seemed stronger than ever.
Just a day ago, Emer had received the report that Nykka beat one of the disciples to death because the man dropped the tray he was carrying in Nykka’s feet. If it were before, Emer would have called Nykka to his room for some heavy punishment, but every time he thought of doing that now, Lydia’s words kept echoing in his head: ‘Haven’t you done enough?’
He had made progress with her already—she didn’t look at him with hostility anymore, and she even talked to him over dinner ever since he let her daughter go back to her.
