Elizabeth's office was silent, except for the rhythmic sound of the pen scratching on the paper. Light filtered through the velvet curtains, drawing golden lines across the carpet and the dark furniture.
In front of the desk, Damon stood motionless.
Elizabeth looked up from the report and observed him for a few seconds—long enough for the silence to become uncomfortable.
She rested her chin on her hand, evaluating him.
"Did the old man really put you to the test?" she asked in her usual cold, controlled voice.
Damon maintained a steady gaze. "Yes, madam. For six months."
She leaned forward slightly. "We'll see."
She rose slowly, the sound of her heels echoing on the stone floor. She walked around the desk until she stopped in front of him. Her gaze swept over him from his shoulders to his feet—meticulous, technical, like someone inspecting a new weapon.
"Posture… balance… controlled breathing." She murmured more to herself than to him. "Caerth wouldn't be disappointed."
