The harsh chill of the central sanctuary lingered in Lalaine’s bones long after she returned to her west wing chamber. Evening had settled over Vaugard Manor, bringing with it a quiet, heavy darkness that swallowed the surrounding pine forests.
Lalaine sat on the edge of her bed, staring down at her red, raw palms. The prolonged contact with the freezing black granite of Wilrhic’s private hall had left her skin cracked and sore. Every movement of her fingers brought a dull throb of discomfort, a physical reminder of the silent trial she had endured hours prior.
A soft, rhythmic knock sounded at her door.
Lalaine tensed instinctively, her back straightening.
"Who is it?"
The door swung open slowly, revealing Beta Barton. He stood in the doorway, holding a small, polished wooden box ca
