In front of Elowen's door,
Lavanya exhaled a long, weary sigh, the kind that sank deep into her bones. So, Jaxen had found out without even asking her, without a single confrontation. That in itself was telling.
He hadn't come to her for answers, hadn't given her the chance to lie or twist the truth into something gentler. Instead, he had gone to Elowen, drawn his own conclusions, and left her with the silence of a man who had already decided what she was.
The door creaked open, and Elowen stood behind it, her brows pulled together in a tight knot of displeasure. No attempt was made to hide her irritation. Her expression did the speaking for her. "Where is he?" Lavanya asked.
Her gaze slipped past Elowen, searching the room as if expecting to find a trace of him in the walls. "He is on the rooftop," came the reluctant answer, Elowen's tone heavy, her sigh even heavier. "Told me to bring you there"
