Alaric arrived back at the mansion, his mind heavy with the events of the day. The encounter with Evelyn's family had left him more on edge than ever, and the weight of Lucy's curse still weighed heavily on his heart. As he approached the front doors, he saw a figure waiting for him outside—Morgana, his grandmother, her expression unreadable, her posture as regal as ever.
She stood by the grand entrance, the moonlight casting a soft glow around her. It was clear from the way she looked at him that she had something important to discuss. The moment he stepped inside, her voice cut through the silence.
"Alaric," Morgana called out, her voice firm but not unkind. "We need to talk."
Alaric paused, meeting her gaze. He had just come back from a long day, but if his grandmother wanted to speak, it had to be serious. "About what?" he asked, his tone respectful but cautious.
