Chapter Forty Five:
The corridor stretched out in a long, opulent ribbon of velvet and stone, echoing with the soft, rhythmic cadence of laughter. Tom walked alongside Caroline, his stride relaxed, the tension of the previous battles momentarily forgotten. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the air around him didn't taste of ozone and blood; it smelled faintly of lavender and the polish used on the castle floors.
Caroline tilted her head back, her amusement ringing clear like a bell against the stone walls. "You cannot be serious," she said, a playful shove against his arm. "You truly told the high priest that his hat looked like a mushroom?"
"A poisonous mushroom," Tom corrected, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "There is a distinct difference. One is culinary; the other is a warning."
