Lila
It was like Emma had become a ghost. I searched for her everywhere but after an hour it was clear she wasn’t in any of the usual places, or any unusual ones either.
So I settled into the archives to do a little light brooding and maybe learn a little more before the next trial, whatever it would be.
I lingered longer than necessary in the aisle marked Inter-Territorial Governance & Historical Council Precedents. The scroll I held was dry, the ink faded to brown, and I hadn’t turned a page in twenty minutes.
I wasn’t reading. Not really. It was boring as hell, but I was too distracted with my own thoughts.
But down here, there were no prying eyes. No questions. Just the rustle of parchment and the faint scent of leather-bound records. Peace, in the loosest sense of the word.
