Benedict's POV
"Enter."
The door swung open and Brooks walked in. His frame filled the doorway, shoulders broader than most sentinels patrolling the grounds. Despite his youth, his face bore the marks of someone who spent years in harsh conditions and countless brawls. What irritated me most were his eyes. Sharp and calculating, they scanned my quarters before locking onto mine.
I stepped aside, motioning toward the chair positioned by the window. My movements remained controlled, my face a mask of mild concern.
"Sentinel Brooks. I appreciate you responding to my summons."
A single nod. "You called for me. Of course I came."
"Indeed." I positioned myself against the dresser, folding my arms across my chest. The exhale that escaped me carried exhaustion and anxiety. "Forgive me if this seems excessive. There's something nagging at me that I cannot dismiss."
Brooks remained standing by the entrance, hands clasped behind his back. Professional posture as he awaited my words.
