The slow, rhythmic clapping faded, leaving the hall in a calm stillness.
The old man scanned the room, finally focusing on the young woman who had demanded to hear the tale.
Silica was slumped forward, her head resting on the wooden table. Her steady, even breathing signaled she had drifted off to sleep.
The old man blinked in mild surprise. He hadn't noticed when she succumbed to exhaustion, but relief flickered across his features.
Her sharp tongue and piercing gaze had made recounting the story feel like walking a tightrope. He was sure she would criticize his story, but now, with her sound asleep, he felt relieved.
"Better this way," he muttered under his breath, letting out a quiet sigh as his shoulders relaxed.
He turned toward the exit and motioned subtly to Zarak, watching nearby.
The purple-haired youth rose without a word, curiosity gleaming in his eyes as he followed the old man out of the dimly lit hall.
