Dust motes drifted lazily above rows of ancient books, caught in the fading glow of sunlight sneaking through the stained-glass windows. The air inside the library was heavy with the scent of old paper and sandalwood, yet somehow it carried a peace that couldn't be found anywhere beyond those walls.
The mountain winds circling Trigia rattled the shutters now and then, carrying a chill that clashed with the lazy warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth.
Etien had only meant to ease the pounding in his temples, the sudden weariness that made him too tired to care about anything else. He sank onto the edge of the velvet sofa, trying to process every word Kael had hidden behind his guarded tone. But the silence of the room betrayed him. His eyelids grew heavy, and before long his head dropped against the cool velvet cushion.
