The rain stopped, the cold air was replaced by a warm breeze, and the stone walls of the mansion faded away, replaced by the lush greenery of a forest. The change was so sudden, so seamless, that for a moment, I stood frozen, disoriented by the shift in my surroundings. The heavy sensation of rain-soaked clothes was gone, replaced by the warmth of the sunfiltering through the canopy of trees. Birds chirped in the distance, and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze brought a sense of tranquility that sharply contrasted the storm I had just been standing in.
And then, I heard it—the voice.
"Thank you."
The words cut through the air like a blade, but not in the way I would have expected. It was calm, composed, even arrogant—but there was something else beneath it, something I didn't often associate with him. Vulnerability? No, perhaps not that. But a flicker of something, like a shadow of regret, hiding just below the surface.
