Meanwhile, in the third dwarven stronghold.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the quiet living room.
Inside the house Javier had secured for them, everything was peaceful.
Liana sat on a simple chair near the window, her posture straight, her eyes unfocused as she gazed outside. Her arms were folded tightly, as if trying to hold herself together.
"I miss young master…" she whispered.
Across from her, Gloria sat with a half-finished garment in her hands. She had been knitting silently for a while now, the thread moving through her fingers automatically—but her focus was gone.
"…Me too," she replied softly.
At the far end of the room, Felicia lay stretched out on a cushioned couch.
"…It feels strange without him here."
The silence that followed wasn't heavy. It was… lonely.
Liana's fingers tightened slightly around her arm.
Gloria continued knitting, slower than before.
Felicia closed her eyes and spoke softly.
"…He better come back soon."
