It was breaking dawn. The air carried the chill of the receding night, and the earthy scent of fresh rain lingered. Birds began their morning songs, breaking the silence as pale light crept across the horizon.
Prince Eyrin leaned against the windowsill, his hand resting lightly on the pane as he sipped from a jar of liquor. He was dressed in his night garments, their dark fabric rippling slightly in the morning breeze. His long black hair was disheveled, a few strands falling across his tired, sleep-laden eyes.
Despite his languid appearance, his sharp gaze pierced the early dawn as he savored the taste of the liquor, his thoughts as distant as the horizon he watched.
A knock on the door broke the tranquility. His voice, calm but laced with authority, cut through the quiet. "Do come in."
The door creaked open, and Eyrin turned slightly before seeing who it was. He leaned back against the window, his arms resting once again on the wooden sill. "Lourix," he murmured.
