"So, Sylvaris, tell me," Iselynne began, her tone playful but edged, the kind of voice that carried both curiosity and warning, "what's your dream in this world? Your end goal, I mean... You seem like a decent person." She didn't call him good anymore—not after he'd tried to flirt his way into another woman's pants right in front of her face.
They were walking side by side through the mellow-lit streets of Rosa, the scent of roasted meats and honey wine drifting from nearby taverns. Laughter echoed in the alleys, lanterns swung gently overhead, and the night air had that crisp, exciting bite of a city that never truly slept.
