That night, after dealing with a pile of documents stacked high in the main hall, Raven returned to his room, his body heavy with exhaustion. He sank into a chair, took off his cloak, and his eyes unintentionally landed on the small scented pouch hanging at his waist.
He’d been so busy all day that he hadn’t paid it much attention, but thinking about it now, the thing really did work wonders. It was the change of seasons, bugs were everywhere, yet not a single mosquito had bitten him all day.
Raven turned the pouch over in his hand, and a faint, indescribable warmth stirred in his chest. After a brief moment of thought, he sent a servant to call Cara.
He was only calling her to ask how to make the pouch, definitely not because he missed her.
Cara was still sulking over the she-wolf who
