Chapter 15 - The Empty Sanctuary
By dawn, the frantic energy of the raid had dissolved into a quiet, spectral stillness. The Grand Ballroom was completely empty, save for the pale morning light filtering through the high glass ceiling, casting long, geometric shadows across the deserted floor.
Margaret and Elena sat side-by-side on the edge of the dais where Arthur had fallen hours earlier. They were exhausted, their physical bodies battered by the night’s trials, yet an profound, weightless calm settled over them.
“Twenty years,” Elena whispered softly, tracing the frayed hem of her emerald velvet coat. She looked out toward the French doors, where the misty gardens stretched toward the lake. “I spent twenty years watching this estate from the outside through a pair of binoculars, wondering if I even had a reflection left in the world.”
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Margaret reached over, taking her sister’s calloused hand in her own, squeezing it tightly. “You were never a ghost to me, Elena. Not in my heart.”
“I know,” Elena smiled faintly, though a shadow of lingering uncertainty still lingered in her dark eyes. “But the world doesn’t run on hearts, Maggie. Arthur was right about one thing. The empire he stole... it wasn't built by him alone. Our grandfather laid those stones. The corruption runs deeper than one man’s ledger.”
