Darius stroked his chin, the pads of his fingers rasping softly against the short bristle of his beard. The morning light spilled through the arched windows of his study, dust motes dancing lazily in the air, but he barely noticed them. His focus remained on the man seated across from himm Cedar, the councilman of the people's welfare.
Ever calm, even-toned, and deliberate, Cedar always carried himself as though he bore the weight of many villages upon his shoulders and in some way he did. Today was no different, though there was a quiet eagerness to his manner that Darius had not seen in some time.
"I believe," Cedar said, folding his hands neatly before him, "that we must offer a gesture. Not a formal one, gods know we've had our fill of stiff conversation and veiled threats. But something smaller and gentler."
Darius quirked a brow. "A gesture to Dawnbreak?"
