The morning sun cast long shadows across the common room of the Artisan's Rest.
Alaric sat at a table, enjoying a leisurely breakfast with Ulriya, Kara, and Iridelle.
The atmosphere was relaxed, a stark contrast to the tension that had permeated the palace the previous day.
Ulriya and Kara flitted around him, attending to his every need, their movements graceful and efficient.
Iridelle sat quietly beside him, her gaze occasionally flickering towards him, a faint blush warming her cheeks.
Alaric noticed her subtle glances, the way her eyes lingered on his face and body, and a knowing smile touched his lips. He knew the dream he had woven for her had taken root, its influence subtly altering her perception of him.
After breakfast, Alaric excused himself, explaining that he had some urgent business to attend to. He left the inn, heading towards a pre-arranged meeting point – an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city.
