The door closed behind them with a quiet click.
The boys' dormitory, usually filled with the slow rhythm of sleeping breaths, now held six figures standing in a half-circle, lit only by the pale moonlight slipping through the shutters.
Marcus was the first to speak. His tone was calm, but his posture was tense.
"You found something, didn't you?"
Noel gave a single nod.
Clara glanced between them, frowning. "Found something? What are you talking about?"
Marcus didn't look away from Noel. "Someone's trying to kill the Saint. That's what we believe."
Clara's eyes widened. "That's... serious. We need to report it immediately to the church."
Noel's voice cut through the air. "Wait. That's the problem. Too many people are involved. We don't know who we can trust. The old pope who opened the gate for me... he's part of it. And the elven nun who helps run the orphanage—she's involved too."
Charlotte's face went pale. "...That means—"
