Interlude: Snow Festival (VII)
Crackle...
The candlelight flickered, casting long, wavering shadows across the cold marble floor. The Cathedral was quiet—so quiet that even the distant wind outside felt muffled.
Christina stood there, her dim pink eyes locked onto Aestrea's glowing red ones.
Her hands, still clasped in front of her, tightened slightly. Her nails pressed into her palms, but her face remained composed.
Elegant.
Serene, even.
"...The money."
Aestrea went straight to the point.
His voice was calm.
Steady.
Like he wanted to be done with this quickly.
Like he wanted to leave.
Christina felt something snap.
Her lips curled into a small smile.
And to her smile, Aestrea stiffened slightly.
'Oh?'
'Was he… nervous?'
'Good.'
She took a step forward.