Malakor's POV
My study was quiet. The room was functional, sparse. I had never been a man who kept comfortable spaces. Comfort was a distraction. Comfort softened the mind. I had finally left the sick room.
The desk was clear except for what was currently in use. A few reports. A letter I had been drafting. A glass of wine that had gone warm because I had forgotten to drink it.
I had not been expecting Lena. Not this evening. She usually came on certain days, at certain times, the way we had arranged. Her appearance now meant something had happened. Something she could not wait to report.
The door opened without ceremony. No knock. Just the soft sound of footsteps on stone.
She did not hand me anything immediately. She sat down. That told me something already. Lena did not sit unless she had something to say that required stillness. She was not a woman who wasted time on posture.
I looked at her.
