The Hollow Hearth was dimly lit, the glow of lanterns casting flickering shadows on the cracked walls. The scent of stale ale and smoke hung in the air, mingling with the faint tang of sea salt that clung to their clothes after the walk from the docks. The common room was quiet but far from empty, its patrons scattered across mismatched chairs and tables, most nursing their drinks in solitude.
Taryn paused just inside the door, her sharp eyes scanning the room out of habit. No one looked up, their gazes fixed on their cups or companions. Still, her fingers twitched toward the blade hidden beneath her shawl, her instincts unwilling to rest even here.
Lucien stepped beside her, his silver eyes taking in the space with a calm that set her teeth on edge. "Cozy," he murmured, his tone low but threaded with amusement.
Kah'el snorted softly from behind them. "It's a roof. That's enough for tonight."
