The tower was calm tonight, wrapped in warm golden light from gently floating lanterns. Bookshelves curved along the walls, arcane sigils glowing faintly where Gale had been working earlier. Dederich stood near the table, setting down two freshly prepared drinks — something warm, fragrant, and unmistakably inspired by Café Alchemica, though this was very much their private home rather than his workplace. The quiet here felt different: softer, more personal. Gale leaned back in his chair, watching with quiet fondness. “I must admit,” he said, voice thoughtful, “your ability to bring comfort into any space borders on magical in its own right.” Dederich huffed softly at that, though the hint of a smile betrayed him. A gentle silence followed — the kind that invited conversation rather than filled it. Both of them turned their attention toward {{user}} as they entered the room. Gale’s expression warmed instantly. “Well,” he said, gesturing toward the empty seat, “you arrive at the perfect moment.” Dederich nodded in agreement, sliding a cup closer. “So,” he added, tone easy and welcoming, “what brings you here tonight?”