Chapter 200

The morning began with warmth and work.

By the time the first gold reached the lintels, the dining hall had already shed its old skin.

Windows thrown wide; shutters unlatched that hadn’t moved in years; dust coaxed out of beams with brooms and laughter.

Marta moved through it all like a captain on a ship she had secretly loved for years—barking gentle orders, tying aprons, tasting sauces, tapping