Adrian returned to the house with Helen just before evening.
Neither of them spoke much.
The events at the docks had left too many questions hanging between them, and Adrian knew that if he allowed Helen to start asking them, he might not have the strength to give her the answers she deserved.
But there was something he needed to do first.
He needed to make sure she could leave.
Once they entered the house, Adrian immediately went upstairs and began gathering Helen's clothes. He packed only what she would need—enough for several days, perhaps longer. Dresses, coats, shoes, a few personal belongings. Nothing that would make her luggage too difficult to carry.
Helen watched him from the doorway.
"Adrian, what exactly are you doing?"
"Preparing you to leave."
"You're still serious about this?"
Adrian stopped folding a dress.
"Yes."
He didn't look at her.
Helen sighed but said nothing.
After three years of living together, she knew when Adrian had made up his mind.
He continued packing.
Then he went downstairs and opened the small box where he had kept his savings.
For three years, Adrian had quietly put money aside from his work at the bar. He had never been particularly extravagant. He had saved whenever he could, telling himself that perhaps one day he would need it.
That day had arrived.
He counted the money carefully and removed most of what he had accumulated.
Helen watched him place the cash into an envelope.
"That's far too much."
"It's enough."
"For what?"
"For you to start somewhere else."
She stared at him.
Adrian avoided her gaze.
There was one more thing.
He walked upstairs again and opened the drawer beside his bed.
Inside was a folded letter.
It had been there for three years.
Three years.
He had written it shortly after Mike's death, but he had never been able to give it to Helen.
His fingers rested against the paper.
For a moment, Adrian simply stared at it.
He remembered sitting at a desk late at night, trying to find the courage to write the truth.
He had failed.
Every time.
He folded the letter again and placed it inside the envelope with the money.
Then he sealed it.
The train station was crowded.
Steam poured across the platform as trains arrived and departed, filling the air with noise. Porters hurried past carrying luggage while passengers said their goodbyes.
Adrian stood beside Helen with her luggage at his feet.
He had already purchased her ticket.
Paris.
It was only the first destination.
"Once you get there," Adrian said, handing her the envelope, "don't stay in one place."
Helen looked at him suspiciously.
"Adrian..."
"Take the train to Paris. Once you're on the way, change trains."
"Why?"
"So I don't know where you went."
Helen stared at him.
"You don't want to know?"
"No."
The lie tasted bitter.
He wanted to know everything.
Where she would live.
Who would take care of her.
Whether she would be safe.
Whether she would think of him.
But knowing those things could put her in danger.
"I need you to disappear," Adrian continued quietly. "Not just from the people chasing me. From me too."
Helen's expression softened.
"You're frightening me."
"I know."
Adrian handed her the envelope.
"Don't open this until you're somewhere safe."
She looked down at it.
"What's inside?"
"Money."
Helen looked back at him.
"And the letter."
"What letter?"
Adrian hesitated.
"Something I should have given you a long time ago."
Her fingers tightened around the envelope.
"Can I read it now?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because once you read it, things will change."
Helen studied his face.
Adrian forced himself to smile.
"If something happens and you encounter a problem that normal people can't solve..."
He leaned closer and lowered his voice.
"Say this."
Helen frowned.
"Say what?"
Adrian carefully recited the words.
"I pray thee… the Fool. Dominator of Fate. Master of Sefirah Castle. Keeper of Mysteries."
Helen repeated them slowly.
"The Fool... Dominator of Fate... Master of Sefirah Castle... Keeper of Mysteries."
"Remember them."
She nodded.
"But only use those words if you encounter something that ordinary people can't deal with. Something impossible."
Helen looked confused.
"Adrian, what are you talking about?"
"Something you'll understand later."
He wanted to tell her.
He wanted to tell her everything.
About the Seer.
About the Castle.
About the things he had seen.
About the monsters hiding behind the ordinary world.
About the man she believed had been protecting her.
But he couldn't.
Not here.
Not now.
Maybe he had never been brave enough.
Helen stepped closer.
"Adrian."
He looked at her.
"You're not coming with me, are you?"
"No."
"Then what are you going to do?"
"Fix this."
"You can't fix everything."
A faint smile appeared on Adrian's face.
"I know."
The train whistle sounded.
The moment had arrived.
Helen reached for him and pulled him into a hug.
Adrian froze.
Then slowly wrapped his arms around her.
For three years, Helen had been the closest thing he had to a mother, a family, a home.
And now he was leaving her.
His eyes burned.
He wanted to cry.
He didn't.
He couldn't allow himself to.
If he started, he wasn't sure he would stop.
Helen pulled away and looked at him.
"You know," she said quietly, "you're like a son to me."
Adrian's heart broke.
He forced a smile.
"I know."
She touched his cheek.
"Then stop blaming yourself for everything."
Adrian almost laughed.
If only she knew.
If only she knew what was inside that envelope.
If only she knew that the man standing before her was the same man responsible for Mike's death.
The same man she had trusted for three years.
The same man who had been too much of a coward to tell her the truth.
When she reads the letter, she'll know.
The thought nearly broke him.
But he said nothing.
"Take care of yourself," Helen whispered.
"You too."
The train doors opened.
Helen stepped aboard.
Before entering completely, she turned around.
Adrian smiled.
The same smile he had learned to wear whenever the truth was too painful to speak.
Helen smiled back.
Then the doors closed.
The train began moving.
Adrian remained on the platform until it disappeared into the distance.
Only then did he turn away.
He had done what he could.
Helen was safe.
At least for now.
And from this point forward, Adrian decided, he would only look for her through Sefirah Castle.
No letters.
No visits.
No contact.
The farther she was from him, the safer she would be.
He walked away from the station.
An hour later, Adrian sat alone inside a small bar.
A glass of whiskey rested between his fingers.
He stared at it without drinking.
Around him, people laughed, talked, argued, and lived their ordinary lives.
Nobody knew what had happened.
Nobody cared.
And Adrian envied them.
He finally lifted the glass and took a slow drink.
The alcohol burned his throat.
He welcomed the sensation.
I can't have a normal life anymore.
The realization had finally become undeniable.
For three years, he had pretended.
A house.
A job.
Breakfast with Helen.
Quiet evenings.
A life without divination.
Without monsters.
Without fate.
He had believed that if he simply stopped looking into the darkness, the darkness might stop looking back.
He had been wrong.
Bishop had arrived from the future.
Nova Roma had appeared in his life.
And somewhere beyond the events he could understand, the timeline itself was beginning to change.
Time travelers had already interfered with history.
That meant the future Adrian remembered was no longer reliable.
Every action created another possibility.
Every traveler brought another change.
The future was bleeding into the past.
And Adrian was standing directly in the wound.
He finished his whiskey.
Placed the glass on the counter.
"Another?"
The bartender asked.
Adrian shook his head.
"No."
He paid.
Then he stood.
For one final moment, he looked around the bar.
Ordinary people.
Ordinary lives.
A world that still believed tomorrow would resemble today.
Adrian envied them more than he could express.
Then he stepped outside.
The London crowd swallowed him almost immediately.
And Adrian disappeared among them.
The smile remained on his face.
But beneath it was a man who had finally accepted the truth.
His normal life was over.
And somewhere above the world, beyond time and beyond reason, the Fool was waiting.