The rain had ceased its soft patter, leaving behind a quiet, silver-soaked world. It was just past seven in the morning. The sky still wore the muted blue of dawn, and the estate grounds glistened faintly under the retreating mist. Iyana's boots made no sound against the marble floors as she walked, her steps echoing her unspoken concern.
She had woken to an empty bed.
Vyan wasn't in his office, but considering how deeply he had been buried in books the night before, her next guess was the library. If not there, he was likely tucked away in his private magic research facility. But if that were the case, she wouldn't be able to see him at all—his wards were complex, layered with magic and reinforced security measures she couldn't bypass without triggering a full lockdown.
She exhaled quietly, the thought leaving a hollow ache in her chest.
