Chapter 52: Seeds of Change

The streets of London whispered stories—of forgotten children, of cold nights spent on damp stones, of hunger gnawing at young bellies. Eleanor had always known of the city’s suffering, but standing there, amidst the tattered clothes and hollow eyes of its youngest inhabitants, she felt it in her bones.

Victor stood beside her, his expression unreadable, but she knew. She could feel the tension in his stance, the way his fingers curled into fists at his sides. This was not the future he wanted to inherit. Not the world he wanted to leave behind.

“We have to do something,” Eleanor murmured, her voice steady despite the lump in her throat.

Victor exhaled slowly. “Yes. We do.”

Back at Thorne Estate, the conversation continued long into the night.

“We could provide shelter,” James suggested, pacing the grand study, his brow furrowed. “A place where they can sleep, eat—”