Roman turned and left the room, his steps faster now, sharper as he made his way down the hall and toward one place, Magnus's study. He reached the door and didn't hesitate. His fingers wrapped around the handle, twisting, but before he could push it open—
"Where do you think you're going?" The voice cut clean through the air.
Roman froze, and slowly, he turned. Magnus stood a few steps away, framed by the corridor, his presence commanding. Roman hadn't even heard him arrive. For a brief moment, neither of them moved.
Then Roman's hand slipped from the handle. The door creaked open just slightly, like it was waiting, tempting him, daring him to enter.
Magnus stepped forward, his gaze steady, unreadable. "What were you about to do?" he asked calmly.
Roman faced him fully now, his jaw tight. "I need answers," he said. "And if you won't give them to me, I'll find them myself. Whatever it takes."
