The following morning brought a hesitant sun and an unexpected visitor. A narrow-eyed courier arrived on horseback with a sealed envelope bearing the insignia of the House of Lavigne — a noble family long exiled after the Great Reformation. The letter was addressed to Élodie.
Julien watched cautiously as she sliced it open at the breakfast table. A single sheet fell out, yellowed and brittle, scrawled in ink that had faded into near oblivion. On it was a symbol they'd seen before — carved into the back of her father's study chair — and a single sentence in Latin: "Tempus veritatis non dormit."
"Time does not sleep," Julien translated, leaning over her shoulder.
"It's a threat," she said softly. "Or a warning."
Julien leaned back, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "The Lavigne family was exiled after rumors of espionage during the war. If they're reaching out now, it's not random."
She looked up. "What if they weren't traitors? What if they were scapegoats?"
Julien gave a small nod. "And your father had dealings with them."
Later that day, they journeyed to the village of St. Renaud, where the old clockmaker still kept shop under the bell tower. Monsieur LaForge had repaired the palace clocks for decades and once, Élodie recalled, had been the only man allowed into her father's study unsupervised.
He greeted them with a puzzled smile. "I haven't seen your face in years, mademoiselle."
"Monsieur LaForge," she said with polite warmth. "I need to ask you about my father. About what you might've seen during your visits."
The old man's hands trembled as he offered them tea. "He was a good man… but burdened. I saw the change in him after the Liberation. Secrets hollow a man out."
Julien leaned forward. "Did he ever mention the House of Lavigne?"
The clockmaker paused, then stood, shuffling to a drawer behind the counter. He returned with a tiny brass key.
"He asked me to safeguard this. Said one day, when the truth began scratching at the walls, it would be needed."
Élodie took the key, its metal warm from LaForge's palm.
"Do you know what it opens?" she asked.
"Only that it belonged to the old tower library. The part sealed since the coup."
Julien's eyes lit up. "That section was closed decades ago."
The fire in Élodie's chest reignited — a mix of fear and excitement. "Then we go tonight."
Outside, a church bell rang three times — a sound that echoed like prophecy through the quiet village.
Inside the shop, the truth waited to be unlocked.