In the inn, within the quiet chamber of Prince Eyrin, his eyes snapped open suddenly. He sat up abruptly, as though an unseen force had jolted him awake. His chest rose and fell heavily with labored breaths, the remnants of an inexplicable unease lingering in his mind.
Prince Eyrin glanced around the room, his gaze falling on Lourix, who was still fast asleep. The loyal attendant's head rested on the edge of a table, his body hunched uncomfortably in the wooden chair.
"I feel… unease," Prince Eyrin murmured to himself as he swung his legs off the bed and walked toward the window. The early morning light cast a serene glow over the world outside, but despite the tranquility, something gnawed at him, urging him to move.
