The kitchen smelled of warm bread and roasting meat. Steam rose from a simmering pot on the hearth, curling along the beams overhead, carrying a faint tinge of herbs that made Alina’s stomach tighten. She moved quietly along the counters, letting the shadows curl from her wrists, testing their obedience. The Veil shifted beneath her skin, responsive yet restless, aware of her focus and her caution.
Each tendril of darkness lifted and fell like liquid, coiling along the edges of the tables, folding over itself, then sinking again. She guided the movement with careful thought, trying to sense the limits of her control. In this quiet space, away from the tension of the courtyard and the constant watch of Kael and Riven, she could experiment without distraction.
Alina paused near the hearth,
