Lucian stood near the gazebo in the garden, his gaze fixed on the one person kneeling among the flowers.
Seraphina was in the small courtyard, her sleeves rolled just past her wrists as she carefully tended to a cluster of pale blue blossoms. Her fingers brushed soil from their stems with quiet patience. There was no rush in her movements, no sound but the faint whisper of leaves in the wind. She looked alive… but deep down, Lucian knew she was not. Not truly. Even after two weeks had passed.
Sebastian stood a few steps behind him, his voice low and steady as he delivered his report.
"There's still no trace of Elyndra's soul, my lord," he said. "No fluctuation. No residue. It's as if she vanished into thin air."
Lucian's jaw tightened, but his eyes never left Seraphina.
"And Auren?" he asked.
