Two hours passed.
Long, quiet, strange hours.
Eiravyne hadn't moved from the edge of her bed.
Her knees pulled up, hands clasped together, eyes fixed on nothing.
She was replaying everything.
The letters.
Urag's trembling voice.
The way he fell apart the moment she mentioned the palace.
And then…
The way he fled.
She didn't hear the door open.
When she looked up, Urag stood in the doorway, hair damp, shirt slightly changed, breathing steadier, but eyes…
his eyes were still storm-dark.
"Eiravyne…" he said softly.
He took one hesitant step inside, then another.
He looked calmer. His gaze kept flicking to her face, then away, then back again, as if he wasn't sure if he had the right to look at her.
He stopped a few paces from the bed.
"You're still awake…" he murmured.
She swallowed. "I… couldn't sleep."
He exhaled slowly.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, voice rough. "I.. I shouldn't have left like that."
