They reached the city walls just after sunrise, exhausted and dust-covered, the horses lathered from the hard ride back. Mercer didn't stop to rest. He sent Corin and Bex home to sleep and rode straight to the eastern district with Tamsin, the ring from his mother still tucked safely inside his coat.
The chapel stood at the end of a quiet lane, small and unremarkable, the kind of building most people in the city walked past without a second glance. Its stone walls had gone gray with age, and ivy climbed one side up toward a modest bell tower. Mercer tied his horse outside and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
Inside, the air smelled of candle wax and old incense. A handful of worn pews faced a simple stone altar, and morning light filtered weakly through narrow, colored windows. An old
