Chapter 132: The Dressmaker
"This place is massive. You’re asking for miracles," she said, peeking behind a wall.
"I’m asking for persistence." Lucius said softly.
"You’re impossible." Jean shook her head before she heard his light chuckle.
"And you’re delightful." He said.
Eventually, Jean began to cough, the dust becoming unbearable. She waved a hand in front of her face, trying to clear the air, but her lungs protested.
"That’s it. I’m done," she said firmly, her voice hoarse. "We’ll pick this up tomorrow. I’m heading back."
Lucius sighed in her mind. "Fine. But don’t forget what you’ve seen here, Jean. It’s only the beginning."
As she stepped outside, the ruin seemed even larger and more foreboding under the night sky. She glanced back at it, frowning. The dark silhouette loomed, a quiet reminder of how much she had yet to uncover.
The carriage waited, its lantern casting a faint glow on the path. She climbed in, grateful for the warmth of the blankets inside.
The ride back to the castle was quiet, save for the creak of the wheels and the rhythmic clop of the horses’ hooves. Jean leaned against the seat, her mind racing with thoughts of the ruin.
Lucius’s presence, so strong in the ruin, was gone now. She didn’t feel him as they passed the gates or as the castle came into view.