Winter clawed at the windows, howling through the eaves, but inside, silence settled like dust in corners long untouched. Time felt slower here, heavier, like it resisted moving forward as if the three days seemed more like three months.The manor was too quiet.
Out on the balcony, Adrien seated on the wrought-iron railing, one leg braced along the edge, the other hung loose over the drop—unbothered by the thousand-meter fall beneath him. There was no land below, only the vast, frozen sea cracked and splintered like shattered glass.
The wind tore through his clothes, tugged at his open shirt and messy hair, but he didn't seem to notice. His grip was loose around a glass of dark wine, the stem slipping between his fingers as it rocked gently with the breeze. He took a sip without tasting it. His eyes were fixed on nothing in particular.
