I followed suit, lowering myself into the chair as well. Despite the uneasiness sitting in the pit of my stomach, refusing the invitation would've accomplished nothing. If she wanted me dead, I doubted a chair would make much of a difference.
Ariel hopped down onto my lap, circled once, then settled comfortably against me. I absently ran a hand through her soft fur, more to steady my own nerves than to comfort her.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching just long enough to become uncomfortable.
But I cleared my throat, starting the conversation.
"So...what's your relationship with Lord Drugar?"
The moment his name left my mouth, Mordra's composed expression noticeably darkened. It wasn't anger exactly, but something heavier. Disappointment...perhaps even regret.
"Well..." she said after a brief pause, "Drugar was once an Archmage, just as I was...until he rebelled against the Order."
I frowned at the unfamiliar term.
"The Order?"
