The imperial library

Outside the military residence, Callan sits in his carriage, his keen eyes fixed on the departing carriage carrying Yetsune and Cirdan. The breeze lifts the carriage's curtain agsin, offering him a fleeting glimpse of Yetsune's profile.

He'd been on his way back to his manor when he caught sight of Yetsune in the carriage with Cirdan when the wind blew open the curtain window. He ordered the coachman to follow their carriage.

Inside the plush interior, Callan's thumb absently traces the joint of his index finger, a nervous habit he's never quite shaken. His brow furrows. If she has indeed met the Third Prince, she might now know the truth, that Anakin was not her abductor, but her saviour. The thought sends a ripple of unease through him for a reason he can't exactly voice or make sense of.