Eiravyne's head spun as she took in the sight before her. The sorcerer's purple eyes were a clear sign that she was in the presence of a Romani.
However, the sorcerer, seated nonchalantly on a chair beside her, bore a striking resemblance to Karl—only older and more imposing.
Her confusion deepened, especially seeing Karl so agitated, his insistence on staying by her side palpable in the tension of the room.
Urag's smile was unsettling, a blend of amusement and malice. He bowed to her, holding her gaze captive with his piercing eyes, lingering longer than seemed polite or necessary.
The air grew thick with unspoken words as Urag finally took his seat beside her.
Ilkar, seated on the other side of the bed, placed a reassuring hand over Eiravyne's, his touch warm and grounding.
His presence was a beacon of comfort amidst the swirling uncertainty.