Throne Hall, Citadel.
Critic Citadel, Critic-Ishire.
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Each step Theodore took felt like an eternity as he traversed the grand halls of the castle towards Salvadore, his footsteps echoed in the empty corridors.
His thoughts were a whirlwind of unconditional fear and confusion, his mind consumed with the desperate need to find answers, to understand how such a calamity could have befallen his beloved wife.
His Lydia, who would never hurt anything unless perhaps threatened and teased but he wouldn't think that was what took her down to the dungeon, whatever it was must be graver that she had to be dragged there.
Also, he believed being dragged as Tom said was an exaggeration because Lydia was a bit too level-headed for that. She must've walked into the dark place with her head held high.
He has to get his Gooseberry before nightfall.
