Lory returned to Cestine Palace after the interview with Alinna, her mind still humming with fragments of words and impressions she refused to lose.
She settled at her desk, the glow of her laptop casting a pale light across her face as her fingers flew across the keys. Every gesture, every tone, every fleeting glance from Alinna and Salvo De Rova, she captured them all, weaving them into her report with painstaking detail.
Later, she would share it with her brother and the others, but for now it was essential to set it down, to safeguard memory against the erosion of time.
When the last word was typed, she pressed save and let out a quiet breath, the tension leaving her shoulders in fragments. She reached for her cup of lemon tea, now cooled, and leaned back in her chair.
