18

The Breakfast

Treylen woke to a heavy fist knocking on the door. His first

thought was of Aaron. He’d worked into the early hours to finish the letter, then placed it along with some blank pages, a fresh quill, and a stoppered inkwell inside of a scroll case that he’d found in the writing desk. He tied a strap to it so Rime could more easily carry it in his teeth.

It had been near morning. The guards had been dozing in shifts and kept a sharp eye on Treylen’s balcony. He’d cracked the door, met the eyes of the guard, then stepped out and made a show of leaning on the railing and yawning as if he’d been unable to sleep while Rime snuck out onto the balcony. Treylen had looked out at the darkened city, then scowled at the man before going back inside, shutting the door, and going to bed.

Maybe Aaron had found something already. It would have to be urgent if he’d come here.
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