He walked toward the back of the house.
The back sitting room had the quality of a space thoughtfully arranged to maximize the natural light at different times of the day. The east-facing window captured the morning sun and retained warmth well into the afternoon. The furniture was arranged not for aesthetic appeal but for practicality, with chairs positioned to facilitate genuine conversation rather than to look inviting from the doorway.
Amelia Brightsoul was in it.
She looked up when he entered, her expression reflecting what often happens when desire levels reach ninety percent: an immediate and warm orientation toward the specific person responsible for that feeling. There was a pleasure in the unexpected arrival, which felt familiar because part of her had been anticipating this moment all along.
