Meanwhile, deep within the shadows of the towering trees just beyond the Exonory training grounds, the masked elf stood still—completely cloaked in invisibility, blending with the breeze and bark. Not a leaf rustled from his presence.
His crimson eyes locked onto Dila, watching her sitting on the bench, still grumbling under her breath as a the maid and the Priestess fussed over her knees. She looked annoyed... and yet strangely at peace.
From a small side pouch, the masked elf retrieved a circular magic mirror—smooth as silver glass. With a flick of his thumb across the runes engraved at the edge, the orb shimmered, recording the scene like a live stream.
A soft voice carried into the linked mirror.
"My lord." the assassin whispered.
"This is your daughter… as you ordered, I've confirmed her condition. She is healthy. Laughing. A little bruised, but not harmed. She… she seems happy."
