After handing the mail, the trio set up camp in the dumbest way possible.
Their "lookout base" was basically a pile of crates stacked unevenly behind a bush.
Ahrie lounged on one with his arms crossed, Min was munching stale bread, and Charlotte had her hands together like she was praying this wouldn't backfire.
They watched the grassy drop-off point in silence, waiting for movement.
Meanwhile, across Glimmerfen—
"Excuse me, Mistress," a maid said, bowing slightly. "There's… a letter for you."
The Lady of House Mossveil raised an eyebrow. "A letter? At this hour?"
She took it, studying the rough paper and uneven handwriting. No seal, no symbol.
She tore it open—
And froze.
A voice spilled out from the parchment. Her voice.
The same words she spoke to the hooded man earlier—echoing through her room, cold and undeniable.
Her fingers trembled as she unfolded the rest of the letter.
