Versailles – November 11, 1937 – 2:45 AM
The door closed with a dry, echoing snap. The sound rippled across the mirrors, as if each surface had witnessed and recorded the moment.
Claire didn't flinch.
Lorelei circled her slowly, like a bored panther — but one ready to strike at any second.
— "You were always Camille's favorite, weren't you?" Lorelei began.
— "Don't provoke me with the name of the dead."
Lorelei laughed.
— "Ah, Claire. Always so righteous. So predictable. But tell me — how many people have died because of your hesitation?"
Claire said nothing.
— "Camille saved you because she believed you were special. That you carried the spark of the Veil. But do you know what I saw in her during her final days?"
She stopped. Eyes locked onto Claire's.
— "Fear. She was afraid you wouldn't be strong enough."
Claire stepped forward.
— "And you? Was she afraid of you?"
— "She knew me. And still didn't trust me. That's different."
The mirror beside them shimmered with a flickering gray light.
— "You think you have a choice, Claire?"
Lorelei raised her hand.
— "But you made your choice the moment you followed the reliquary. You want justice. I want balance. And sometimes, balance demands burning what remains."
— "You call that balance?" Claire snapped. "What you want is control."
— "Control is the only way to survive. Camille knew that. And now... she's dead. Maybe because of me. Or maybe because of your cowardice."
Claire's breath faltered for a moment. She clenched her fists.
— "Say that again."
Lorelei stepped in until their faces were inches apart.
— "Camille died believing you would save the Veil. I'm here to make sure you don't destroy what's left of it."
Claire drew her short blade from her belt.
— "Then try."
Lorelei smiled — as if she'd been waiting for exactly that.
The mirror behind them cracked.
And the Veil trembled once more.