The sun was slanting, the evening breeze had died down. Hayna felt a vague sense that something intangible was shrouding this area, altering the atmosphere of the manor.,He was clad in pure white fleece pajamas, looking as if he had just stepped out of the bath. His silken blond hair caught the warm glow of the hearth fire. He sat quietly and intently reading by the fire, his delicate features holding a gentle expression… reminding her of a poet, with the flames rising in their home fireplace.,Is this the price one pays for being attacked by demonologists。