Back in Carles, the sky had begun to darken, casting long shadows across the worn cobblestone streets. General Odin sat heavily in a high-backed chair, the weight of the day pressing down on him. The room was quiet save for the distant murmur of voices beyond the stone walls, soldiers and workers alike toiling to restore the war-torn town.
"Bener," Odin called, his voice low but steady. "Fetch Lara. I'd like to have dinner with her."
Bener bowed slightly before departing, his footsteps fading into the corridor. Odin sighed and leaned back, rubbing his temple. The day had been consumed with planning the rehabilitation of Carles, each decision a new burden added to his shoulders. And as if the weight of rebuilding weren't enough, the arrival of Princes Alderan and Reuben only complicated matters.
