Their footsteps thudded against the stone, a steady rhythm that filled the silence between them.
At the bottom, they stepped into a hallway lined with matte black walls and light fixtures—long, thin LED strips that cast a warm golden hue down the corridor. Shadows shifted subtly with their passing, not flickering like candlelight, but sliding in and out of dim corners like thoughts just out of reach.
Rowena stopped in front of a door—smooth, black, high-gloss—and pushed it open.
The room Inside was a stark contrast to the chamber above. Warm and indulgent. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, packed with a mix of ancient tomes, sleek new bindings. A curved smart-fireplace flickered along one wall, giving off a faux flame glow and real heat. The scent of jasmine and sandalwood curled through the air from a glass oil warmer near the bookshelves.
