location: devani's chambers, towards the start of the upcoming fighting with new valyria
@devanitoland
something was wrong. doran could feel it—a subtle yet persistent feeling gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. it had been there for some time now, an elusive sense that things were not as they seemed, but he couldn’t quite grasp what it was. call it intuition, or perhaps a finely crafted instinct from years of navigating courtly deceptions. people were hiding things from him. of that, he was certain. but doran was a man of patience, a man who understood the delicate balance between waiting and acting. he knew how to bide his time, how to let his cards rest hidden until the exact moment they needed to be played. he could wait as long as it took to get the truth.
and so, he had waited. he let his web of informants and spies scuttle about, gathering the small, scattered pieces of knowledge he required. he trusted they would eventually bring him what he needed to know, even if it meant drawing it out piece by painstaking piece.
but this… this was unexpected.
he found himself sitting alone in the chambers of devani toland, a woman he had long ago told himself to forget about. she was meant to be a closed chapter after his nephew, one he was better off leaving behind. and yet, here he was, waiting for her return as if he had any right to be here, like an old ghost haunting her private space. a glass of dornish red sat on the table beside him, the deep ruby liquid catching the flickering candlelight as he swirled it absently, letting the wine stain the glass in slow, dark trails.
footsteps sounded in the corridor outside, drawing closer. doran remained seated, his gaze steady, his expression unreadable. he didn’t rise to announce himself or even attempt to conceal his presence. his very being here was message enough.a subtle assertion of his authority, an unspoken reminder of his reach.
the door opened, and he watched her step inside. doran met her gaze, lifting his glass in a casual acknowledgment, his dark eyes glinting with an unreadable intensity.
“evening, devani” he said smoothly, his voice as calm as if this were a planned encounter. he took a slow sip of the wine, letting the silence stretch between them. “i think we need to talk.”
