Chapter 43: A Quiet Breath
The carriage rumbled down a quieter, narrower street, away from the busy docks and the cold stone of Zamorde's manor. The sun had dipped below the rooftops, painting the sky in soft pink and violet, and the air smelled of wood smoke and fresh bread from a nearby bakery.
When the carriage finally stopped, Hannah was half-expecting another grand, imposing gate.
Instead, they found a modest, walled manor—smaller than Zamorde's, with a simple tiled roof, a neat little garden, and a faint, warm light glowing from the windows. It looked lived-in, peaceful, and nothing like the noble estates she'd seen so far.
Theron noticed her stare and let out a faint, amused huff as he stepped out first.
"Don't look so surprised," he said, extending a hand to help her down.
