The dining room of Elaris Hold glowed softly, its lantern light dancing across the carved figurines and vibrant paintings, the air heavy with the lingering scent of roasted herbs and warm bread.
Alex leaned back in his chair, his stomach full, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips as he pushed his empty plate away.
Across the table, Griesla stacked dishes with delicate precision, her ruby chain glinting, her gray eyes calm but distant.
Jusin stretched, his broad frame filling the space as he yawned, his mud-streaked tunic creased from the day. "Good grub, as always," he said, patting his belly, his voice a warm rumble.
Alex nodded, his confidence unshaken despite the quiet settling over them, the meal's chatter fading into the evening's hush.
With a shared glance, the three rose, the scrape of chairs echoing faintly.
Griesla led the way, her gown whispering as she climbed the stairs, her steps light but purposeful.
