Afternoon light filtered through tall windows, casting long shadows across polished wood floors.
Portraits of Duskwood ancestors lined the walls, generations of stern faces watching their descendants navigate circumstances they'd never imagined.
Four people sat in careful arrangement around a low table. Tea service laid out between them.
On the right side of the table sat Baron Varell Duskwood.
Mid-forties in appearance, with black hair showing silver streaks at the temples. Grey eyes that once carried warmth now looked hollow, distant. His formal clothing was impeccable, dark jacket, crisp shirt, everything proper, but he wore it like armor rather than comfort.
He sat rigid. Controlled. Every movement measured, every expression carefully managed.
Beside him was Baroness Mirenna Duskwood.
