Chapter 81

The Sanctuary Circle was gone.

But their presence lingered.

Their scent—old parchment, stale incense, cold metal—still clung to the halls like mildew that refused to lift. Servants moved quietly, whispers trailing behind them. No one spoke of what happened aloud, but everyone felt it. The house had gone still. Suspended. Waiting.

I sat in the garden behind the estate, still barefoot from shifting.