Adrien's arm held her tight, grounding her as the world snapped back into place. In a single breath, the humid weight of her old life vanished—replaced by the crisp bite of dawn in the Winter Mansion.
Frost-laced windows rose like cathedral arches before her, catching the gold-threaded light of morning. It was colder here. Sharper. Beautiful in a way that didn't ask for permission.
Alicia stood frozen, eyes wide with wonder. Slowly, Adrien's grip eased from her waist, but the heat of him lingered like a brand on her skin. Barefoot, she padded forward past the spiral staircase, drawn deeper into the silence.
"This is… marvelous," she whispered, voice a breathless hush, fragile and reverent, as she stepped toward the second staircase—a sweeping descent into a conservatory bathed in sun.
