Mornings in Nocture always began with a cold breeze carrying the scent of black roses and damp earth after the night dew. Thin mist still rolled low between the obsidian stone streets, wrapping the city like a soft blanket that never truly disappeared. The faint sun behind the gray clouds gave only a gentle light, just enough to make the treant leaves in the castle garden sparkle like liquid silver.
Sylvia woke up later than usual.
