On that very night, a soft but determined knock echoed through the corridor, coming from Isolde, who stood at the door of Adrith's bedroom. Without waiting for a response, Isolde turned the doorknob and entered the room. Her keen eyes quickly found Adrith, who was sound asleep in her armchair. A newspaper rested upon her lap, and the soft glow of a lantern on the nearby table illuminated the room.
"Adrith," Isolde whispered, gently nudging her shoulders. "Wake up; I have something to ask of you." The words were delivered with urgency, a plea veiled beneath Isolde's tone.
Adrith stirred in her slumber, eyelids fluttering open, and she gradually straightened up to face Isolde. The latter, hands on her hips, peered down at Adrith with a sense of expectancy in her eyes. "It seems you're finally awake," Isolde remarked, her voice carrying a mix of relief and annoyance.
