Lucius spoke with a measured calm, but the weight of his words landed like stones in Florian's chest. He explained everything—the letter that had arrived that very morning, sealed and marked from Floramatria. How Heinz himself had refused to hand it over.
And worse, how there had been a box—a box filled with other letters that all bore the same sender.
Florian listened without interruption. He forced himself into stillness, though every muscle beneath his skin wanted to coil, to tremble, to react. H
is arms tightened slightly across his chest, nails pressing against his sleeves.
'A whole box? From them? How many letters did the original Florian never even get to see? And why....?'
Lucius's golden eyes flickered toward Lancelot as he continued, his tone carrying the faintest hesitation.
