Thalion rose from the bed, stretching his thin arms above his head.
"I need fresh air," he announced, his voice light. "And I want to gather more information about the other guilds. The ones that might still remember the Velveteen Watch."
Jason nodded, keeping his expression neutral. "Take your time."
The elf slipped out the door, closing it softly behind him.
The moment his footsteps faded down the stairs, Ylva turned to Jason. Her eyes were sharp, unblinking.
"He's lying," she said. "About the fresh air."
Jason shrugged. "Probably."
Thalion had left to escape Jason's eyes. Because Thalion knew something was off. Jason had seen it—the flicker in those pale irises when he described the dream. The slaughter. The heads exploding. Even though Jason had laughed it off, called it just a dream, Thalion wasn't stupid. He knew Jason was sending a message.
