Kael
The morning of the feast arrived with a cloud cover that threatened rain.
I sat at my desk trying to review security protocols for the evening, but in reality, I had been staring at the same paragraph for the past ten minutes without absorbing a single word.
Dionne was cleaning my chambers.
She moved through the space with her usual careful efficiency, dusting surfaces that did not need dusting and straightening items that were already perfectly aligned.
Her movements were quiet, almost completely faded into the background the way servants were trained to do. But I was aware of every step she took, every breath she drew, every small sound she made as she worked.
The beast was purring.
That was what irritated me most. Not her presence itself, but the creature's response to it. The satisfied rumbling that suggested having her in my space was somehow pleasing, somehow right. I hated that sound.
