As they moved through the village, a familiar figure appeared before them—Lysandra, Madam Vadal's enigmatic subordinate. She was calm, poised, and as sharp as ever, her gaze lingering on Fenrir with a mixture of intrigue and suspicion.
"I didn't expect to see you back here so soon," Lysandra said, her voice smooth as silk.
Fenrir tilted his head, his smile faint. "I could say the same about you."
Lysandra ignored the comment, reaching into her cloak and producing a sealed letter. "My master has a proposition for you. She's willing to meet you, but only if you complete a task for her first."
Mary Ann frowned, her arms crossing defensively. "We don't take orders from anyone, least of all a witch playing coy games."
Fenrir held up a hand to silence her, his gaze fixed on Lysandra. "And what task would that be?"
