While Ashlynn and Nyrielle enjoyed an evening filled with laughter and Georg's finest dishes, a much more somber event was taking place elsewhere in the ancient fortress.
"My lord, Loman," Sir Gilander said after knocking sharply at the door. "It's Gilander," he called. "My lord, will you speak with me?"
"Gilander?" A broken, drained voice called from the far side of the door. "What are you doing here, Gilander? Who ordered you to come?"
"No one ordered me, my lord," Gilander said, glancing briefly at the horned servant who had guided him here. "My lord, we should speak in private," he said. "May I come in?"
"It makes no difference if you do or if you don't," Loman said. "I have no power here to send you away. Do as you please."
Gilander frowned as he opened the door, and the frown only deepened at the sight that greeted his eyes.
