Two Days Later, The morning air was sharp, tinged with the earthy scent of dew and the faint iron tang of old stone.
Horses were saddled, bags were strapped, and the great bronze gates of Embrez Moor Mansion creaked open slowly as the group gathered in the courtyard for departure.
Cloaks flapped in the wind. Swords gleamed at belts. Every expression was tense with purpose.
Yesterday Lucius had stood at the center, dressed in black as usual, his long coat swirling around him like mist.
His umbrella was in hand — always — but it wasn't shielding him from sunlight today. It was a statement. Always a statement.
As he told them:
