When Robert walked into the courtyard, the faint scent of medicine from the alchemy building still clung to his robes. As he headed toward his father's study, moonlight traced the edges of the stone path. His heart silently bore the burden of responsibility as he walked in a steady rhythm, taking measured steps.
When he reached the tall wooden door, he rapped his knuckles firmly against it.
From inside came the calm, steady voice he had grown up respecting.
"Enter."
Robert pushed the door open and bowed deeply. "Father."
John Osborn sat behind a desk of dark sandalwood, lamplight spilling across the maps, ledgers, and jade slips that lay neatly arranged before him. His golden eyes met Robert's for only a moment before he gave a small nod.
"Sit."
Robert took the seat opposite his father. Without a word, he drew a porcelain jar from his storage ring and placed it on the desk with both hands. The faint glow of sealing runes shimmered along its surface.
