In her room after leaving Marquis' side, Valeria rested in the quiet, her thoughts a labyrinth of possibilities and uncertainties. Marquis Ventor's words lingered in her mind like echoes in a vast chamber, their implications weaving through her musings. She had excused herself with grace, but now, as she stared at the faint glow of the lamp on her bedside table, the weight of the situation bore down on her.
For reasons she could scarcely explain, her thoughts drifted to Lucavion. His infuriating smirk, his cavalier attitude—it all seemed to clash with the serious atmosphere that surrounded her. And yet, there was something grounding about his presence, a strange kind of clarity he brought, even amidst the chaos he seemed to thrive in.
