Chapter seven.

Arya took deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart.

It’s not a big deal. I mean, it’s not like I’m being summoned by the werewolf alpha or anything.

She stared at the marble floor, trying to distract herself. The floors were really shiny.

A few minutes later, the doors opened, and Noctis gestured for her to come inside.

Arya suddenly felt very small as she stepped into the massive room. Everything was three times her size. Towering bookshelves lined the walls, stopping only for the stained-glass windows that depicted various images of what she assumed was some great legend.

She walked through the room, standing beside Noctis before a large, imposing desk. Behind it sat the most domineering man she had ever seen. He looked to be in his late sixties, with white, slightly receding hair and a face that might have once been handsome. A deep scowl was etched into his features, like he’d rather be anywhere else.

You and me both, sir, Arya thought.