Chapter 215

Knock... Knock...

A knock like a knuckle that owns the door, and then it opened, and the room filled with a scent that always makes me think of thunderheads and clean linen: Lyrra.

It had been a while since I last saw her, since I decided to leave Florence with Dante, only to end up in a different territory with a new adventure here.

She looked exactly like herself—severe braid, plain dark dress,