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The faint light of dawn spilled through the thin curtains of the tavern room, painting the wooden walls in soft hues of gold and gray.
Inside, the stillness of the early morning was broken by the low hum of a tense conversation. Cheska knelt awkwardly on her bed, her hands raised defensively as she faced a man seated across from her, his posture rigid and disapproving.
"What were you thinking? Following a random child like that?!" His voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet like the crack of a whip.
Cheska glanced up, an awkward chuckle escaping her lips. "I knew the—"
"So?" he interrupted, his tone colder now. "Ayessa knew the child too, and yet you didn't wait for her!" Emette adjusted his glasses, the sharp gleam of his green eyes locking onto her with calculating precision. "Have you forgotten what you went through?"
