The white stone gates of the Holy Capital stood tall under the morning light, welcoming travelers with quiet solemnity. Marcus, Charlotte, and the elf nun passed through without issue, the guards barely giving them a second glance.
As they walked along the cobbled path that led toward the inner district, the nun hummed a soft tune to herself, her voice light and distant, almost childlike.
Charlotte glanced sideways, visibly distracted.
"Do you think the pervert will be okay?" she asked.
Marcus raised an eyebrow. "I don't even want to know how he earned that nickname. But yeah… I imagine he'll be fine. He's more capable than most."
"I just… can't help but worry. I told him not to do anything reckless if someone ever targeted me," she murmured. "But he's the type who—"
"—can't sit still when someone he cares about is in danger. Trust me, I know. He's like me in that sense."
"I see…"
