They appeared beside the desk without sound.
No ripple. No flash. Just presence.
Both dropped to one knee the instant reality settled, heads lowered, eyes fixed on the polished black stone floor.
Alethea Albinos sat behind her desk, fingers laced, chin resting lightly on her knuckles. She did not look surprised. She rarely did.
Eryndor spoke first.
"Your Majesty."
Sylen remained silent, posture perfect, blindfold still in place.
Alethea exhaled softly, a small smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.
"Stand up, both of you," She said. "You're going to ruin my floor with all that kneeling."
They rose immediately, still not meeting her gaze.
"It's good to see you," Alethea continued, tone warm but sharp underneath. "Both of you."
"Thank you for your kind words, Your Majesty," Eryndor said.
Alethea waved a hand dismissively. "Don't flatter me. I called you here because I wanted answers."
Her eyes shifted—direct, piercing—straight to Sylen.
