The evening settled like a secret across the estate, not loud, not rushed—just present. Like the world exhaled.
Shadows stretched long and low across the marble tiles of the courtyard, slanting in elegant lines that sliced through the carefully trimmed hedges like ink across old parchment. The sky had melted into that soft, brooding indigo—the kind of color that only existed between dusk and full night, where the horizon still kissed hints of burnt orange, like a candle dying slow.
Above the mansion, carved into the very peak of its highest arch, stood Judgement—an angelic statue cut from moonstone-white marble, timeless and austere. She held scales in her hands, blindfolded but knowing, her wings spread halfway like she was always one breath away from lifting off.
The breeze hit her first.
