The night air of Zefron carried a briny chill, its freshness a stark contrast to the drier winds of Brithuel. Wrapped in a thick coat, I stepped out of the manor's entrance, the soft sound of my boots crunching against the gravel of the courtyard. Lanterns lined the path to the gates, their light flickering gently in the breeze. Beyond the walls, the city sprawled in every direction, its streets alive even at this late hour.
Jem had already fallen asleep, her boundless energy finally giving way to exhaustion. Natasha remained in the quarters, likely ensuring everything was in order for tomorrow. I appreciated her diligence, though I suspected she welcomed the reprieve from the day's activity.
