The Next Day
The dining hall was silent. The only sound echoing through the room was the clinking and clanking of cutlery against porcelain. After yesterday's incident, no one dared to become the king's scapegoat. They had all learned their lesson—not to do anything foolish.
"It feels far too soon for you two to be leaving," the old lady said gently. "And knowing you won't visit again for a long time… it saddens me."
Ariana wore a cream floral dress that had been brought in that morning. It was much lighter than yesterday's. She guessed Zavren had something to do with it. But then again—how did he know that was exactly what she liked?
"We might visit again," Zavren replied calmly, drawing all eyes to him. The old lady chuckled softly.
"When next? In my grave?" she asked with a smile.
Zavren's lips curled into a slow grin.
"If that is your wish, then so be it," he said coolly.
