Before long, Nathan landed lightly in the atrium of Servilia's estate, the night air still clinging to his clothes. The marble floor echoed faintly beneath his boots as he set both girls down.
Elin staggered a little when her feet touched the ground, her cheeks still pink from the sudden flight. She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered. "I-it's cold…" she muttered, rubbing her bare shoulders.
Beside her, Freja hugged herself as well, shifting from foot to foot. Both of them wore only thin nightclothes, and neither had shoes—the chill of the stone floor was quick to bite at their skin.
Nathan paid them no mind. His attention turned instead toward the woman waiting calmly in the atrium. Servilia was seated with the poise of someone who belonged in every hall, her long legs crossed, her gaze languid but sharp.
"A new woman, now?" she asked, her eyes sliding to Freja with an amused glint.
