Chapter 061
Emilia's POV
The scent of smoke, pine, and something bitter, like burnt promises, permeates the air. It's too quiet in the grove. As though it simultaneously recognises that this night is holy and tainted, even the wind holds its breath. The pyre has already been constructed, with logs arranged with uncanny accuracy and dry leaves wedged between them as if the earth were ready to part ways. Her white cloth-wrapped body rests on top, appearing too serene. Too untrue. It bears a striking resemblance to a well-crafted deception.
I stay put. I don't talk. I watch numbly as the silver trees give way to shadows. Although it's cold, it doesn't chill me to the bone. It is the kind of cold that becomes a part of your bones, as if it was always there.
Lucian moves forward. A letter—h
