The crystal dimmed, leaving him looking at his own faint reflection in its surface. He remained in the chair for several seconds before placing it beside the books. His room seemed quieter once her voice was gone.
Beyond the narrow window, the White Citadel remained almost as active as it had been during daylight. Skeleton workers carried supplies through the lower districts, while constructs continued their patrols along the outer walls. The few living inhabitants from the Dark Continent had gradually adapted to neighbors who considered midnight an excellent time for construction.
Bastos slept eventually. The citadel had little reason to bother, although its endless activity rarely required Ludwig's attention. Nobody knocked on his door to ask him to settle an argument, and no farmer was waiting outside with a complaint he had to pretend to understand.
