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>>Aelin

The hallway was quiet at this hour—just the soft tap of my slippers echoing against the polished stone as I approached Draegon's study door. My heart beat harder with every step. I didn't know why I was so nervous. It was just a meal. A small thing. Seraphine had made it sound so simple, and yet my palms were clammy and my breath came too shallow.

Still, I stopped in front of his door and raised my hand. I knocked gently.

For a moment, there was silence. Then came Draegon's deep voice from inside.

"Come in."

I took a breath and opened the door.

He was at his desk, bent over a stack of parchment, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a faint golden glow from the enchanted lantern casting warm light across his dark hair and sharp features. His eyes lifted when he saw me, and he immediately stood.

"Aelin?" His brows rose slightly. "It's late."

"I know," I said, stepping in and gently shutting the door behind me. "It is."