Chapter 75: The Heir
The wind howled against the windows like a creature in mourning, its wail threading through the stone walls like a dirge. The torches had long since burned low, their flames flickering weakly in the corners. Shadows stretched and warped across the chamber walls, moving with the slow, inevitable passage of grief.
Valerie stood near the hearth, her silhouette stiff and trembling in the dim orange glow. Her hands wrung the hem of her sleeves, twisting the fabric tighter and tighter until her fingers went numb. Her gaze darted to the door every few minutes—as if Odi might suddenly appear, drenched and breathless, shouting that she'd changed her mind, that she hadn't left after all.
But the door stayed closed. The silence in the room felt like it was waiting for something. Or mourning something already gone.
