After going so far as to plead with Alia to return to the capital, only to be firmly refused, Soren found himself with no other choice. If he wanted to secure her future, he had to face the nobles overseeing the encampment, namely the Davenmore's and the youngest prince of Elarion, Cael.
Naturally, when the moment word reached him that Soren was asking for an audience, Alaric set aside the remainder of his work. He even dismissed the twins from his tent without hesitation since Sylas and Lyric had yet to reconcile, and Alaric knew all too well that Soren's presence would only sharpen the distance between them.
The interior of the tent fell into a tense stillness.
"So," Alaric drawled, his voice cool and measured, "what do I owe this visit?"
Though his expression was indifferent and almost bored, there was a sharp attentiveness behind his eyes. He had been quietly wondering what Soren had been doing these past few days, and this sudden request only deepened his curiosity.
