"You sound excited," Priscilla remarked, leaning back against the high wooden frame of the door as she studied him.
"Of course I am excited about all of this," Sylas said, a faint, wicked curve gracing his lips while he swept a look out over the sunlit stone parapets of Skyreach. The mountain wind, cool and biting, played gently with his short platinum blonde hair.
"This coming Cael'haran will be overflowing with venom, gossip, and ambition. And I relish all three in equal measure. And to top it off, there's going to be scandal, political games, jealous lovers, wounded pride, and enough secrets to keep the bards drunk for months. How could I possibly not be excited?"
Priscilla folded her arms. "You relish chaos."
"I relish interesting chaos."
"Is there a difference?" Priscilla asked with narrowed eyes.
"Of course there is." He walked toward the balustrade, resting his hands against the carved stone.
