The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp, casting a warm, muted ambiance as dawn tiptoed on the horizon. Caym, with his sleeves rolled halfway, stood by the dartboard. A cluster of darts was deeply embedded on the board, with some overlapping each other. Although not missing any of the shots, his mind dwelled on the events a few hours ago.
"Like a goddess," Caym mused, the memory of Ingrid's dance under the moonlight still vivid in his thoughts.
As Caym continued to throw darts with precision, Fredrick entered through the open door. His eyes scanned the dartboard, a mosaic of metal tips protruding from the surface.
"Might need to buy a new dartboard," Fredrick muttered, his gaze shifting to Caym's blank expression. The Grand Commander's focus remained unwavering, as if the world beyond the dartboard was secondary to the thoughts occupying his mind.
