Versailles – November 11, 1937 – 2:41 AM
The silence in the side corridor was dense, almost solid. Claire walked slowly, each step measured. The marble floor seemed to hold the sound, as if the palace itself didn't want to betray what hid within its own walls.
Solène stopped before the bend.
— "She's right there."
Claire nodded.
— "Don't act. Watch. Only step in if I don't return."
Solène didn't answer. But her eyes said everything.
Claire continued alone.
The room where Reiner slept was bathed in a soft bluish gloom. The door was slightly ajar, like an invitation. Claire pushed it gently and stepped inside.
And there she was.
Lorelei. Sitting on the back of an armchair, cigarette between her fingers, a slanted smile on her face. She wore a dark silk robe, and her scar — now fully visible — shimmered in the firelight.
— "You came."
— "And you were waiting."
Lorelei calmly stubbed out the cigarette.
— "You know he won't survive this war, don't you?"
Claire stepped closer, but kept her distance.
— "You mean Reiner or the whole world?"
— "Both. One mirrors the other."
Claire didn't take her eyes off her.
— "Why did you call me here?"
— "Because I want you to see."
Lorelei reached out and touched the mirror beside Reiner's bed. The surface shimmered. Images began to dance — future scenes, probable, possible. Reiner being executed. Claire in chains. Paris burning.
— "What is this?" Claire whispered.
— "It's the reflection of all the lies you still believe."
Claire stepped forward.
— "Do you have the other key?"
Lorelei smiled.
— "I carry the scar it left behind."
The two stared at each other for long seconds.
— "You're just like me," Lorelei said, rising from the armchair. "The only difference is that you're still trying to save something."
Claire pulled the reliquary from her pocket.
— "And you've given up?"
Lorelei stepped closer. The tension was physical.
— "No. I just switched sides."
And before Claire could answer, the door shut by itself behind them.
Outside, Solène narrowed her eyes.
— "They've started."