The office was spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the city. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes and curiosities from what looked like various gates. A large desk sat in the center, carved from dark wood, its surface neat but not empty.
And standing behind the desk, facing the window with his back to the door, was a man.
He turned slowly.
Guild Leader Leto was older than Andrey had expected—silver-streaked dark hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and sharp brown eyes that held a lifetime of experience. His build was lean but strong, and he moved with the quiet confidence of someone who had seen too much to be easily surprised.
"So," Leto said, his voice warm but measured, "you're the one who turned the tide at the guild hall. The one who Hope speaks so highly of."
Andrey met his gaze, offering a small, respectful bow. "Andrey Thompson. Thank you for meeting with me."
