Eiravyne's fleeting happiness was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of the sorcerer, a stark reminder of the looming threats that hovered over their lives.
The royal palace, ever vigilant, had taken every precaution to ensure that Ilkar would not be alerted to the sorcerer's impending visit until he had already crossed into the territory of Wandova.
The secrecy surrounding his arrival was a strategic maneuver to prevent any forewarning that could give Ilkar an advantage.
It was calm that afternoon when the disturbance occurred. Eiravyne had found a rare moment of peace earlier, having drifted off to sleep in Ilkar's arms.
The gentle rise and fall of his chest had provided her with a comforting solace, a respite from the overwhelming chaos of recent days.
She slept soundly, unaware of the encroaching urgency that was about to disrupt their tranquility.
