Donovan descended the long, spiraling staircase to join the others for dinner. He had tidied his hair into a sleek, low bun, and had donned the night robe that had been laid out for him — a gesture he suspected was Althea's doing.
Revana, he knew, wouldn't bother herself with such thoughtfulness unless it served a hidden purpose. It felt reassuring to know that despite everything, they still retained the essence of their personality from years past.
As he approached the open-roof atrium in the garden, the delicious aroma of roasted pheasant wafted in the air, assaulting his nostrils. He let the scent guide him to the destination where others would be having dinner. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves in the tree, creating a symphony that mingled with the soft trickling of a hidden fountain nearby.
This peace… It was a comforting feeling he would never be able to accept.