The room still carried the faint sting of resin and ash even after Morena left the shutters cracked open, letting the cold air move through.
Adolf had taken Lira's body before dawn; nothing remained but the memory of her face and the knowledge that betrayal had already rooted itself within the walls.
She washed her hands twice, then her blade, and finally the boards where the jug had spilled. She couldn't risk having a maid do it, as the news might spread, so she had to take care of the matter herself.
While she tried her best, the scent lingered longer than she would've liked in the air, almost like a memory of the death that had taken place within it, the fresh smell of the lime cleaner barely masking it.
