An hour had passed.
The tea had long gone cold, but neither of them had minded. Charlotte left the cup neatly on the desk, offering a quiet nod to Orthran as she stood up.
He was already preparing for the next wave of duties.
"Take your ti," he told her as she reached the door.
"I will," she said softly.
The hallway outside was cooler, dimr—lit only by slits of sunlight cutting through narrow stained glass. She walked slowly, her fingers brushing over the polished edge of her new pendant.
Sancta Veil.
A gift from Orthran.
Silver chain.
Opalescent white gem, pulsing softly with warmth.
Charlotte kept turning it between her fingers, still getting used to its weight. Its presence. Its promise.
By the ti she reached the main corridor leading toward the cathedral entrance, the voices grew louder. She paused for a mont beside one of the inner pillars and peered into the gathering ahead.
Father Orthran stood at the front, addressing a room full of returned priests, nuns, and low-ranking holy knights. They had co from the outer regions, abandoning their posts as soon as the ssage reached them.
Not soldiers. Not battlemages.
But faithful.
Orthran thanked them for their devotion. He gave them a vague recount of what had happened—an internal breach, averted just in ti. The capital was secure now, but their presence was still needed.
Charlotte didn’t stay to hear the rest.
She turned away as the voices echoed behind her, already walking up the curved stairs that led away from the lower sanctum. With each step, the sound faded—first into murmurs, then into nothing.
Just her and her thoughts.
Just the soft, magical pulse of Sancta Veil brushing against her collarbone.
And the quiet decision to visit the orphanage... alone.
The streets of the Holy Capital were quieter than usual.
Not because of curfew—those had been lifted after the imdiate threat ended—but because everyone walked slower now. Eyes down. Conversations hushed.
The Holy Capital had survived.
But it hadn’t escaped untouched.
Charlotte moved through the alleys with practiced ease. She kept her cloak pulled up—not to hide, but out of habit. And maybe a little discomfort. Even now, so passersby paused when they recognized her.
She didn’t stop. Just smiled faintly and kept walking.
When she reached the orphanage gates, she let herself in quietly.
The main hallway had been scrubbed clean. The floor still carried faint scorch marks in so places, and a few of the wooden walls had been reinforced with iron panels. But the scent of warm bread and fresh laundry was back. Sohow, that made her chest hurt a little less.
She moved through the halls slowly, taking her ti. Glancing into rooms. Listening for laughter.
And then—
she heard it.
Out in the garden.
Children’s voices.
She smiled for real this ti.
’Still here.’
Charlotte knew the Church had decided to take new precautions. Starting now, once every month, Father Orthran himself would perform a wide-scale blessing over the entire district—a divine scan that would purge corruption and reveal any disguised threats. It would take a toll on him, yes... shorten his life with every use.
But he’d insisted.
Said it was the price he had to pay for trusting too easily. For missing the signs.
She understood why.
She’d do the sa.
She probably will.
Her fingers found the edge of Sancta Veil again, brushing against the gem.
And she stepped out into the garden.
Where everything almost looked normal again.
The garden was bright with midday light, the grass still wet from morning dew. A warm breeze passed through, carrying the scent of herbs from the flowerbeds soone had tried to replant.
Charlotte paused at the edge of the doorway, watching.
Children ran across the yard, laughing as they chased each other with wooden toys. Two girls were braiding each other’s hair on a bench. A boy sat under the tree drawing crooked shapes in a notebook.
They looked... normal.
Unaffected.
’They’re still too young to understand what really happened.’
And maybe that was a blessing.
Across the yard, Laziel and Garron were sitting in the grass with five or six kids, playing so kind of ga involving pebbles and drawn circles. Laziel was pretending to lose on purpose, making exaggerated faces. Garron was letting three kids pile onto his back like he was so kind of beast.
It looked ridiculous. And exactly right.
Charlotte stepped out slowly. "Thanks for staying," she said. "And for playing with them."
Laziel looked up first and smiled. "Don’t worry about it. We’ve still got like... ten days before classes start again."
Charlotte nodded. "Will you all be leaving together?"
"Yeah. In five days we take the ship," Laziel answered. "It’s about five more across the sea."
"I see..." She smiled, brushing so hair behind her ear. "Then wait for that day."
Garron tilted his head. "Wait? For what?"
Laziel smirked. "She wants to say goodbye."
Charlotte held up a finger and waved it quickly.
"Nope. Wrong."
"Huh?"
"I’m going to the academy with you all."
The garden froze.
One of the kids blinked. Another threw a pebble and missed.
"WHAT!?" Garron and Laziel shouted in unison.
Their voices echoed across the walls, startling a few birds into flight.
From inside the orphanage, two more familiar voices stirred at the noise. Footsteps ca running.
And everything was about to get louder.
Marcus stepped out first, a broom still in one hand. Clara followed, sleeves rolled up and a rag draped over her shoulder.
"What’s going on out here?" Clara asked, frowning. "Why are you yelling?"
Before anyone could answer, Garron blurted out—
"Charlotte’s coming to the academy!"
Charlotte’s eyes widened.
"Wait—!"
Too late.
She rushed forward and slapped her hand over his mouth just in ti to cut off whatever else he was about to say.
"Shhh! Don’t say it like that—it’s supposed to be a secret!"
Garron tried to mumble sothing through her hand. "Bla... ble... brrr..."
She gave him a dry look, then finally pulled her hand away. "Yes, I’m going. But not as . Not exactly."
Charlotte stepped back from the group and reached for her pendant—Sancta Veil. Her fingers brushed the gem gently, and she whispered a short activation phrase under her breath.
A soft light shimred over her skin.
Her form didn’t vanish—just shifted.
Her rosy pink hair dulled and darkened, rippling like ink in water until it beca a deep crimson red. Her amber eyes faded into a soft hazel, still warm but far less striking.
The holy sigils etched into her gloves and neckline dimd, vanishing beneath the illusion.
Her posture relaxed slightly.
Still her.
But different.
"This is how I’ll go," she said with a faint smile. "Not as the Saint. Just as... soone else."
Marcus crossed his arms, nodding slowly. "I see. I’m glad. You deserve that."
" too," Charlotte said. "Even if it’s only for a while... it’s enough."
Clara clapped her hands excitedly. "That’s amazing! We can go shopping in Valon and explore the city together!"
Charlotte laughed. Then looked around the garden.
And paused. "By the way... where’s Noel?"
Her smile faltered slightly.
The others exchanged glances.
But no one had an answer.
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