Izaak gently placed his empty wine glass on the small polished mahogany table, the last drops of the rich red liquid swirling at the bottom. His gaze drifted towards the dance floor, where couples swirled in a harmonious rhythm, their laughter and joy echoing through the grand hall.
A pang of annoyance tugged at his heart, a feeling foreign to his usual stoic demeanor. Lately, he found himself lost in his past more often than he cared to admit.
With a polite nod to his companions, he excused himself from the lively atmosphere of the hall, seeking solace in the quiet solitude of the dimly lit corridor.
The moon had already claimed the sky, casting long, eerie shadows that danced along with his leisurely steps as he made his way towards his chambers.
After a few minutes of unhurried walking, a familiar figure caught his eye. Melody, standing gracefully near a stone pillar, her gaze lost in the vast expanse of the night outside.
