She crossed the room toward him, and the air around her carried that particular quality it always did — clean, slightly charged, like the moment before a storm that never quite arrived because she had decided it wouldn't.
She kissed him.
It wasn't rushed. There was none of the urgency of the Depths, none of the charged uncertainty of stolen moments between crises. It was unhurried and warm and entirely present.
When she drew back, something in her expression had shifted. Still warm, but with an edge of something else underneath it.
"I have to leave," she said.
Jolthar studied her face.
"Now?"
"Ivyona is calling me. Urgently."
Haryntha's eyes carried genuine reluctance, the first time he'd seen that particular expression on her since they'd met.
"I don't know what it's about. I only know that the summons came the moment we crossed back through the Veil, and it's not the kind of summons that allows for delay. Not even for an evening."
"Will I see you again?"
