I had convinced myself that returning to work would help me cope. My reasoning was straightforward: avoid places that held traces of Hadrian’s presence. The thought of immersing myself in the world of numbers and legal jargon brought a flicker of excitement—an escape, however fleeting, from the gnawing ache buried deep in my heart and mind. Against Freya’s advice, I decided to head to the bank’s headquarters after breakfast. Anything to distance myself from the oppressive weight of the castle walls.
That resolve lasted until I crossed the threshold of the building.
The moment I stepped inside, the air seemed to shift. My head spun, and a tremor coursed through my body. In an instant, the haunting images of the attack surged to the forefront of my mind, vivid and unrelenting. My breathing
