The messenger exhaled in relief, nearly collapsing under it, then hurried to his feet and gestured. A carriage bearing the crest of House Kosler waited not far away too ready, as though the family had known Demian would stop, would hesitate, would turn back.
Demian stepped inside.
The carriage door shut with a heavy sound, as if sealing one possibility and opening another. As the wheels began to roll away from the palace, Demian leaned his head back for a moment, his eyes closing.
He did not know what awaited him at the Kosler estate.
He did not know whether this was a sincere plea… or the final trial of a bond that refused to die.
But one thing was now clear to him, before he could truly decide his future, the bond and all its consequences had already demanded its price.
The room was heavy with the scent of bitter tinctures and healing candles.
