The light filtering through narrow windows was muted, casting long shadows that stretched and warped across the stone floor.
Alyssane didn't trust this meeting. Not after the way his eyes had burned into hers in that brief moment―not after what had happened the night before.
A soft breeze stirred the strands of hair that had slipped from her braid, but the cool air did nothing to settle her restlessness.
Before she could spiral further into speculation, the sound of heavy boots echoed outside the room. Kazmun strode inside with an unreadable coldness in his expression.
Without sparing her a glance, Kazmun gestured toward the weapons, his voice carrying an almost indifferent authority. "Pick something."
Alyssane blinked, confused.
When she didn't move, his eyes narrowed slightly, his patience waning. She hesitantly glanced towards the weapons lined throughout the room―axes, swords, spears, and more. Every one of them seemed dreadful.
