David's fingers rested thoughtfully against his chin, eyes narrowing as the question circled his mind: why had Seraphina sent Draven to fetch him rather than coming herself? The gesture was uncharacteristic; Seraphina, sharp and direct, preferred handling matters face-to-face.
His curiosity sparked, David rose and followed the imposing shadow of Draven out of the dining chamber. The knight's armour clanked softly, each step resonating with a quiet menace, leading them down the winding halls toward Seraphina's quarters.
The castle seemed to breathe around them, its stone walls soaked in the deep hues of twilight. Golden crystal light cast wavering shadows that danced across old paintings, whispering stories of forgotten wars and noble legacies.
