Chapter 721: The Weight of Certainty
Victoria watched Selith move about the chamber, her hunched frame silhouetted against the glow of the torches. The old woman had already returned to her work, her crooked fingers sorting through bundles of dried herbs, rearranging the glass jars on the shelves.
The room smelled of blood and incense.
"Our plans can proceed," Victoria told Selith.
The old woman straightened slowly, her joints cracking. She turned to face Victoria, her blackened lips pressed together, her milky eyes sharp as she nodded.
Selith did not say it outright, but she was glad that her worry had been for nothing.
Victoria watched as Selith turned back to her work, her crooked fingers resuming their methodical sorting.
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft clink of glass jars and the distant simmer of the cauldron in the corner. Victoria remained where she was, her expression unreadable.
After a while, she stood.
