Night had settled softly over Black Tortoise City, and a cool stillness lingered in the air.
Luciel had just finished dinner and retired to the new study — a room recently furnished by the rabbit-eared girl, Minuo. The faint scent of polished wood and new leather lingered in the air. The shelves gleamed under lamplight, lined with freshly bound scrolls and books. The desk, carved from dark oak, reflected a warm sheen. Everything here bore Minuo's careful touch — thoughtful, meticulous, and just a little too perfect.
Luciel ran his fingers along the smooth edge of the desk and smiled faintly.
"Minuo's really grown up," he murmured.
He sat down, straightened a piece of animal-skin parchment, and uncapped a stick of charcoal. The tip scratched faintly as he began to sketch — half-drawn blueprints of future projects: canals, workshops, city walls yet to be expanded. There were so many empty places in this city waiting to be filled — not just buildings, but entire industries.
