After our bath, we return to the same place as last night—the roof of the Gilded Horn—each holding a steaming cup of chocolate milk. The wind carries a crisp chill, making the warmth of the cup even more comforting as I cradle it in my hands.
There's something undeniably soothing about sitting under a starry sky, sipping something sweet.
Now I get it.
This is part of Eris's nightly ritual—a quiet moment to unwind beneath the moonlight. And now that I've tried it myself, I can fully understand why.
Up here, everything feels… far away.
The streets below, the blood-soaked horrors of the night, even the worries that gnaw at the edges of my mind—all of it seems so distant.
For just a little while, it's as if the world shrinks away, leaving only the two of us beneath the endless sky.
The stars flicker like candle flames against the vast black expanse, and I breathe in the cool night air, letting it settle the unease still lingering in my chest.
Peaceful.
