Two days had passed since Nero woke up in Lyon's infirmary.
Two days of rest, of allowing his body to finish healing from injuries that should have killed him. Two days of avoiding questions he didn't want to answer and processing the fact that he was now officially a Templar candidate. Two days of successfully not thinking too hard about what he'd consumed in the depths of that black lake.
But now he had obligations.
Arthur Koh had said he owed Nero a drink, and Lyon had been very clear about what ignoring that invitation would mean. So here Nero stood, outside the gates of the Koh family estate, wearing the cleanest clothes he owned and feeling profoundly out of place.
