XLIII: Mixed Witch
Once outside the study, she found Zayden standing near one of the windows in the passageway, his sharp gaze seemingly lost in thought. He always had an air of mystery, like a figure painted against a backdrop of shadows and secrets. She approached him, her voice soft but urgent. "My father wants to speak with you."
His dark eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw something flicker behind them—concern? Curiosity? It was hard to tell with Zayden. He gave a brief nod, brushing past her with his usual grace, leaving her alone to wonder what awaited him inside that study.