On an early summer night, the windows of the master bedroom in Monte Castle were open. The evening breeze, carrying the fragrance of freshly bloomed summer Snowball Flowers from the courtyard, silently drifted in, dispelling the last lingering traces of the day's heat.
Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting hazy patches of light on the floor.
The hum from the secret chamber that had lasted all afternoon and the final, clear ring of a sword had long since subsided.
When Murphy returned to the bedroom, Aurora was not asleep.
She wore only a thin linen nightgown, her golden hair draped casually over her shoulders. She sat in an armchair by the window, quietly gazing out at the courtyard, its contours traced by the moonlight.
Hearing the door, she turned her head. In the moonlight, her sapphire-blue eyes were as serene as still water.
"Is it over?" Her voice was gentle, like the night breeze brushing against the curtains.
