Draven had sensed her presence, which was the reason why he left Madine immediately to go see her.
It was he who had called for her, but the witch did not waste any time in coming.
When he reached the terrace, her back was facing him, her long white hair swaying with the direction of the wind. She wore long black cloaks that covered every part of her aside from her hair. Her gaze was fixed on the half-moon.
"The full moon is quite approaching. I am certain you are being prepared," she voiced without turning back.
Draven sighed, barely focused on the moon. Can she at least not remind him of that? That was not the reason why he had called her.
"It is not working," he said as he reached her, standing just at her side, his gaze fixed ahead. "I cannot control myself, not even in this country."
She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I knew it."
Draven looked at her, his eyes squinting. "What do you know?"
