The heavy, carved library door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in.
The darkness was absolute. It was thick, and warm, and it smelled of old paper, lemon-oil polish, and the faint, clean, herbal-soap scent of the man standing just a foot away.
For a moment, neither of them moved. They just... existed. Two shadows in a black, silent room, both of them breathing just a little too fast.
This time, Ines wasn't shy like the first time. She was... expectant.
She heard him move, his steps sure and silent on the carpet. He was not fumbling. He knew exactly where he was going. She heard the scratch of a match, and a second later, a bloom of gold.
Carcel lit the large, brass-based lamp on her reading table.
The light flooded outward, painting the room in amber and shadow, illuminating his face.
And he was... different.
