The corridor was dark when she returned.
Phaeryl moved quietly, her footsteps barely making a sound against the polished floor. The manor had settled into that deep, late-night stillness where even the walls seemed to be holding their breath. She passed the cracked window she'd stood at earlier. The night air had cooled further. The garden smell had gone with it.
She stopped outside the door.
Put her hand on the handle.
Then opened it.
The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers, throwing just enough low, amber light to see by. The room was dim and warm and quiet.
Xhanes was on the bed.
Awake.
She could tell before she even fully looked at him — the quality of his stillness was different when he was asleep. She'd learned that somewhere between Lanster and Carlisle, somewhere b
