Later that evening, Isadora returned home in her carriage. The skies had turned golden with the setting sun, and the streets of Esporia passed by in a blur as she leaned against the window, deep in thought.
Her heart still fluttered with the memory of Lucien's words, his kiss, his warmth. But then—
A sudden jolt in her chest.
That dream.
The strange, terrible dream from before — it flashed in her mind in fragments: faces twisting, betrayal, fear… darkness.
She blinked fast, trying to catch the pieces before they vanished again. It slipped through her like sand.
"I can't remember," she whispered to herself, fingers clutching the edge of her seat. "But I know it wasn't good."
The carriage rocked gently as she sat there in silence, a strange unease settling in her bones despite the joy she'd felt all day.
Something's coming, she thought.
But she smiled anyway, as if to push the fear away.
I'll be fine… It's just nerves. That's all.
