After a long moment, his expression shifted—recognition flickering in his eyes.
"Ah," he murmured, "there is one place that fits that description."
He turned, rummaging through a drawer before pulling out a worn map.
Unfolding it across the desk, he tapped a spot just beyond the main roads.
"Here. This place. There's a cathedral built before the founding of the Empire. Its angel statue collapsed decades ago." He glanced up at me. "The locals call it the 'Fallen Wings.'"
I leaned over to study the marked location.
The spot his finger indicated on the map wasn't just far—it was buried deep within Ambrosia, the most secluded district on the outskirts of the capital.
A place people avoided unless they had business they didn't want others to know about.
I studied the mark carefully, committing every curve of the path to memory.
Once I had it locked in my mind, I straightened.
"Now it's my turn," I said. "Dora. Tell me about her pendant."
