Heappal & Thalia Bud

Meanwhile,

The couples chambers was dim, illuminated only by the soft flicker of a single candle on the table. 

Emma paced restlessly, her shadow dancing across the cold stone walls. 

The hour was late, and yet the silence in the manor felt heavier than usual. 

Her thoughts raced, her nerves taut as a bowstring.

She had much to report—too much, perhaps—but it all boiled down to the ominous sight of the veil she had spotted tied to Jaefel's horsepack earlier that day. 

A veil unmistakably belonging to Mire, the missing maid.

Emma sat on the edge of the chaise, wringing her hands as dread coiled around her like a serpent. 

She knew Mire had been taken by Jaefel that day, and now there was no denying what had happened. 

Her stomach churned at the thought. The veil, frayed and dirtied, had been a chilling confirmation of the maid's fate.