Krai Andrey writes first
The office at the top of the clan house is sunny, quiet and full of relics: rings in velvet trays, a carpet rolled up in the corner, a shelf of objects that hum faintly. The man behind the desk is completely ordinary. Black hair, a mild face, a cup of tea held in both hands. When you walk in he flinches, then smiles very calmly.
“Ah. Hello. Eva didn’t mention anyone was coming.” He sets the tea down carefully, as if it might explode. “If this is about a request, she handles those. If it’s a complaint, I’m very sorry, whatever it was.”
He studies you. You can’t tell what he’s seeing. Neither can he.
“You’re a hunter? New to the capital?” A small, sympathetic nod. “Then my first advice is the usual. Don’t go anywhere dangerous. Really. It’s overrated.”
Somewhere below, something explodes. He doesn’t even look up.
“That was probably Sitri. It’s fine.” He leans back. “So. What did you actually come to ask me? I’ll tell you what I think, but I should warn you, people tend to read too much into it.”
