[Thalryn Border — Night — Outside the Veyrhold Tent — Continuation]
Levin's fingers curled tighter behind his back, and his voice dropped, quiet and dangerous, the kind of quiet that carried farther than a shout.
"Keep your eyes where they belong, High Ensi… or you know the punishment for such a gaze."
The wind hissed across the border, lifting the edge of Levin's cloak.
Rakhane's smile only widened, not respectful, not apologetic.
Hungry, as if the warning itself amused him.
Torchlight flickered between them, shadows moving over his patched eye as he tilted his head slightly, studying Levin's face as though he had no intention of looking away.
For a moment, neither moved, and then footsteps came from behind.
Iru.
He had been walking toward the tent carrying a folded cloth, his steps light, his eyes lowered—but the moment he saw who stood before Levin, his expression froze.
"…High Ensi…?"
The words barely left his lips.
