That night, after dealing with the old fox, I barely slept. My thoughts ran in circles, tangled between strategy and restraint.
I was a straightforward kind of girl, not good with subterfuge but I guess I had to learn eventually.
The idea that I had to smile at Maren, to entertain his ambition, grated against every instinct I had.
But the old master was right, charging forward self-righteously without any real backup could cause issues.
By morning, I had already sent a runner to deliver my reply to Elder Maren.
It read, 'I will meet in the Archives after the midday bell.'- Micah.
The messenger bowed and ran off. My stomach knotted tighter. If I were going to do this, I had to make it convincing.
The Archives were silent as always, save for the faint hum of rune-etched tracing along the walls.
It smelled of parchment, dust, and the faint burn of old ink. Sunlight filtered through narrow skylights, cutting the dimness with thin, golden blades.
