Darion walked through the quiet corridors of the castle, his footsteps echoing on the newly laid stone.
The silence was still strange, unfamiliar in a way. After two weeks of constant noise: the hammering, the sawing, the shouts of workers, the quiet felt almost oppressive. But it was a good kind of quiet, the kind that came with completion, with a job well done.
He reached Garren's door and knocked. There was a pause, then the sound of footsteps, and the door swung open. Garren stood in the doorway, his expression neutral, his eyes slightly distant.
"M'lord," he said, stepping aside to let him in. "I was just staring out my window."
Darion entered the room, his eyes scanning the space. It was modest but comfortable, the walls freshly plastered, the floor level and smooth. Garren had been given one of the better rooms, a reward for his years of service. He deserved it.
"Staring out your window?" Darion asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "That doesn't sound like you."
