Chapter 81| The Fourth Watch

Martha handed Vincent a blanket before he descended the stairs. The fabric was thick and slightly worn, stitched with care and smelling faintly of rosemary and ash. Vincent accepted it with a wordless nod, the same cold detachment still carved into his face.

Aricia remained at the top of the stairs, watching the silent exchange with confusion.

He was staying?

She followed Martha into the dimly lit room, her mind racing.

The small bedroom glowed faintly with silver moonlight filtering in through the lattice window, dust dancing in the gentle beam. Shadows crawled along the wooden floorboards, and the cold outside pressed gently against the cottage walls.

Martha exhaled, then blew out the candles, leaving the space bathed in soft twilight.

She moved with the calm grace of habit, slipping into her nightgown and sitting on the edge of the narrow bed.

"Aren’t you going to bed, dear?” she asked, her voice gentle as linen.