Alpheo sat in the dimly lit chamber, the papyrus pages of an old manuscript resting delicately in his hands. His fingers traced the rough texture as he turned another page. The chair beneath him creaked softly as he leaned back, frowning at what he was reading.
how crude, he thought as he turned another one.
The door swung open, and Jasmine stepped into the room, her brow already furrowed in disapproval. "Why are you still not dressed?"
Alpheo glanced down at his simple tunic, then sighed heavily, closing the book with a soft thud. "I got... lost," he admitted, his voice trailing off as if the explanation was as much for himself as it was for her. His fingers tapped the closed papyrus for a moment before he stood up, moving languidly towards the wardrobe.
Jasmine watched him, arms crossed, her frown deepening. "You know we need to be there."
