The woman's gaze stayed locked on that patch of shadow, and even the air around them seemed to grow heavier with her words.
The shadow the moon cast behind her also seemed, because of what she'd said, to grow deeper and more inscrutable.
In this empty place there was no movement at all, only the sound of a faint breeze brushing past, echoing by their ears.
From within the darkness came the vaguest hint of motion, all the more apparent against the pervasive stillness.
Her posture was straight and proud; though she sat beside the wine table, her bearing was like that of a deity high above, composed and unruffled.
Her eyes remained unwavering, as though she were waiting for something—or someone—to appear.
There was a trace of a smile on her face, and within it lay a quiet, profound wisdom and poise, as if she had already seen through all the secrets that had yet to surface.
The whole scene, under her steady gaze, grew more enigmatic, taut with tension.
