Royle ignored the guards’ stares and managed to hold back a yawn. The sunlight streamed in from either side of him, and thankfully, the brightness would be enough to tire the guards’ eyes if they were inclined to watch him during his wait.
He had his arms crossed, and the wall behind him had warmed since he first leaned his back against it. He surmised it had been about half an hour since Misa entered Sha’ka’s chambers. Upon learning that Nisha had left the palace for a trip to the city—no doubt with permission from the royal council—Misa had asked him if she could meet the southern witch.
It had temporarily alleviated the tension between them, but Royle still felt the effects of their conversation. The cut was still fresh, and it was a wonder that his heart was still beating
