By dawn, the palace was already stirring, but Lucien's wing remained silent...cold, as if untouched by time or warmth.
Liora stood near the table, her hair still damp from the hurried bath. She hadn't slept. How could she, with the truth clawing at her throat?
Lucien entered, already dressed, his eyes alert. "We leave in ten minutes."
She glanced at the map he unfolded. It was a copy of the older palace layout, back when the Miral family had holdings near the southern garrison. "Are we going to the archives?" she asked.
"No," he said. "The archives have been scrubbed clean by now. We're going to the old crypts beneath the chapel."
"The catacombs?" she blinked. "That's off-limits."
A hint of a smile ghosted over his lips. "Good thing I'm no longer concerned with permission."
