Three days after her meeting with Edmund Erwell, Marron was still thinking about their conversation at The Harvest Table.
The lunch had been... complicated. Educational. Uncomfortable in ways she was still processing.
Clearly Edmund was a good man—if not a little obsessive about keeping Legendary Tools safe from everybody. He genuinely cared about preservation, about historical significance, about protecting objects that carried knowledge from a lost world. His passion was obvious, his expertise undeniable.
But his method—locking everything away, treating use as inherent risk, believing that possession was the only true protection—that was where they fundamentally disagreed.
It was too naive to think that only one conversation would change Edmund's mind, but...
Marron sighed, pacing her small apartment. He could have at least thought about it longer than five seconds before dismissing her entire philosophy as reckless idealism.
