Back at the Aldenar manor, the morning was far more peaceful. The grand dining hall was bathed in soft, buttery sunlight that streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, highlighting the fine dust motes dancing in the air.
Verona and Elric sat across from one another at the long table. The spread was vast, Northern delicacies of dark, hearty breads, smoked mountain fish, and bowls of heavy, chilled cream, but Verona found herself merely picking at her food. She moved a piece of smoked trout around her plate, her mind far away from breakfast. She kept stealing glances at Elric over the rim of her tea cup.
He had cleaned up well, the grime and blood of the previous night washed away. He wore a crisp, midnight-black tunic with silver embroidery at the cuffs, the high collar hiding the marks on his neck. However, the small, faint green smears of her herbal salve were still visible on his forehead and along the line of his jaw.
