Malvoria closed the door to her office with a quiet click, leaning against the polished wood for a moment as she let out a slow, measured breath.
The morning sun filtered through the tall windows, casting long, soft rays across the dark mahogany desk and the towering shelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls.
The faint scent of parchment and ink filled the room, a familiar comfort in the chaos of her mind.
The breakfast had been... amusing, to say the least. Watching Zera barely restrain herself, fists clenched and jaw tight, had been the highlight of Malvoria's morning.
Every sharp glare from the ever-loyal bodyguard had only made Malvoria smirk wider, savoring the barely contained fury.
There was something undeniably satisfying about poking at the edges of Zera's self-control, knowing exactly what had fueled that anger.
