"Any luck yet?" Damian's voice was low and clipped as he paced the length of the palace corridor.
Jasper, leaning lazily against a marble pillar, twirled a silver coin between his fingers. "Well, if by 'luck,' your Highness, you mean blisters on my feet and a newfound hatred for dusty corners, then yes—tons of luck."
Damian shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "Not funny."
Jasper coughed, sliding the coin back into his pocket with a sheepish grin. "Right. I'll just… keep my mouth shut then."
The tension between them was obvious, like a bowstring ready to break. Damian's mind was racing with concern—not only about the missing dragon pearl but also about Evelina's sudden disappearance.
Yes, she mentioned that she needed time and space, but he had Jasper look out for her as well, yet there's been no sign.
