Malgarius hurried down the hall, his footsteps echoing on the stone floor. The sound grew louder as he approached her room, and he burst through the door, his heart in his throat.
"Gwendolyn!" he called, panic rising in his chest.
She was sitting upright in bed, her body trembling and her face pale. Her eyes were wide with terror, and her hands were clenched into fists.
"I-it was so real," she whispered, her voice shaking. "There was a man, and he..."
Malgarius hurried to her side, his gaze locked on her face. "A man? Did you recognize him?"
"No," she said, her brow furrowing. "He was tall and broad-shouldered, with long black hair and pale skin. And his eyes... they were blue, but they were cold and lifeless. Like the eyes of a dead fish."
"Rheagan," Malgarius breathed, his blood turning to ice in his veins.
"You know him?" Gwendolyn asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
