Archduchess Leone stood amidst the rubble without moving, as though she belonged there more than anywhere else in the world.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them felt old, older than the ruins, older than the fire that had devoured the mansion and left only blackened bones behind. It was the kind of silence that did not ask to be broken. It simply waited, heavy with everything that had never been said.
Edric's gaze moved slowly over the shattered remains around them. The broken stone. The collapsed arches. The scorched fragments of what had once been a grand hall. Then, eventually, his eyes returned to Leone.
"Of all places," he said quietly, "you chose here."
The Archduchess did not answer at once.
The last light of evening brushed the edge of her hood with a pale silver glow, making her appear almost carved from the same dusk that lingered over the ruins.
"This is where it began," she said at last.
