Meanwhile, far above the salt-wet streets of Puerto Cuidad, Seamus Matteo stood before a hidden alcove carved into the cliffside.
He adjusted his cloak, lips set in a hard line, eyes unreadable.
Behind him, Kenneth shifted his weight, the glint of a dagger sheath flashing from beneath his coat. The man was wound tight. Coiled like a spring.
Golden light leaked through the cracks of the salt-stained wooden door before them. Over the frame, a sigil pulsed faintly—one Seamus recognized from the old house by the docks. He exchanged a glance with Kenneth before lifting his hand.
Knock. Knock. Knock… Knock. Knock.
The pattern.
A small metal eye-slit slid open. One suspicious eye studied them.
Kenneth tilted his hip just enough for the hilt of his dagger to catch the light—its pommel engraved with the same sigil.
A pause. Then the slit closed.
The door creaked open.
Seamus blinked at the sudden brightness. Inside was a small chamber, modestly decorated with religious iconography—most notably, a large tapestry of Saintess Yidali with her arms outstretched, the sacred heart blazing from her chest.
A silent, cloaked guide stepped forward, fingers pale and long as they pulled back the tapestry.
A stone staircase spiraled behind it.
The walls were damp, the air thick with salt and secrecy. Mana-powered lanterns hummed faintly as they descended into the underground.
The staircase opened into a vast subterranean cavern.
A hidden black market lay before them.
Tents pitched between ancient stone columns. Cloaked vendors hawking enchanted relics and mana stones. Forbidden tomes stacked on worn crates. Potions, scrolls, amulets—the lifeblood of outlawed practitioners.
Seamus and Kenneth instinctively pulled up their hoods.
No words were spoken as their guide led them through the maze of secrecy.
At last, they reached a thick metal door—sealed from the sea, smartly forged to resist both tide and time. The guide knocked another coded pattern.
This time, it was Elena's voice that answered.
She sat at a wide table, barefoot, bone anklet glinting beneath her panniered black skirt. Her navy waistcoat was cinched over a soft, oversized ivory blouse. Wild curls fell like waves down her back. A scroll lay open in front of her, eyes narrowed in focus until they flicked upward.
Relief.
She rose as soon as she saw him.
"Seamus…"
He crossed the room in three long strides, one hand cradling her face.
She leaned into his palm, her voice quiet. "I'm sorry. I should never have left."
He shook his head. "And I should never have hidden things from you."
Their foreheads met, a silent truce forged in breath and heat.
From the shadows, the cloaked figure beside them chuckled and pulled back their hood.
Skin like rich mahogany, bright eyes alight with knowing. Braided plaits cascaded over their cloak, bone anklet matching Elena's.
"I am glad to see a millennia cannot change two hearts sworn to one another," the Behike said.
Seamus blinked.
"A millennia?"
He turned back to Elena, bewildered.
Elena gave a small, sheepish laugh. "I've been having visions, Seamus. Since the day we met. I didn't want to believe them at first, but… I've been researching. Digging into the estate library. Praying at the chapel."
"You kept this from me?" he asked, voice gentle but strained.
"I wasn't sure of what I was seeing. I needed proof."
The Behike stepped forward, extending a hand. "Greetings of the Mother to you, child of Yidali. I am Behike of Puerto Cuidad's Muerte Juju. Your woman found something important. Killing those agents was a divine accident."
Seamus's eyes snapped to Elena.
She lifted her chin. "They came for me. I fought back. I didn't have a choice."
The Behike gestured to her anklet. "Made from whale bone. An ancient talisman, predating the Church's obsession with mana stones. It will help her replenish what she loses in combat."
Kenneth cleared his throat. "But if you were already interrogated by the Church before, why come after you again?"
Elena looked away. "Because I cursed out the high priestess. I told her to go fuck herself."
Kenneth blinked. Then laughed.
Loudly.
Seamus glared.
"Pardon me, my lord, but that's brilliant!"
The Behike, thankfully, pulled the room back on track.
"Does the name Sotomatteo mean anything to you?"
Seamus exhaled sharply. "It's a myth. A legend."
"It's your bloodline," Elena said softly. "And the reason they silenced me. I think… we're the ones meant to bring the Church down."
Seamus went still.
"This is madness," he muttered. "I'm just a merchant's son who got lucky."
"And I'm just a girl who barely escaped with her life. But together?" Elena reached for his hand. "We've got a chance."
The Behike nodded. "Which is why you need to marry. Publicly. In Muerte Juju tradition. Parliament protects their rituals by law—if you marry through us, the Church will lose all jurisdiction over you both."
Elena's smile bloomed. "Then they can't touch me anymore."
"Or me," Seamus added, awe beginning to settle into belief.
Kenneth glanced at his watch. "We should go."
As the market began to pack up, water sloshing into the far edge of the cavern, the trio made their way back toward the stairs. Vendors hurried to seal their goods behind watertight doors.
At the top, Kenneth went to ready the car.
Seamus and Elena lingered.
"Don't ever scare me like that again," he whispered, brushing his thumb across her lip.
She kissed him first.
Soft. Fierce. Grateful.
When they reached the car, Kenneth opened the door without a word.
Elena slid in, Seamus beside her.
The city disappeared behind them.
Inside the car, cloaked in shadows and tinted windows, they kissed again. No titles. No politics. No secrets.
Just two souls who had found each other once more.