In the top-floor office at Nurmengard.
Grindelwald and Vita sat facing each other.
Their conversation was drawing to a close, and the atmosphere had remained placid throughout.
Grindelwald held a cup of "Tadpole Abode," sipping through a straw he held between his teeth. After tasting a cup of milk tea Shawn had mailed him, he had asked Albus to brew some more. It was wonderfully fragrant.
Watching Grindelwald act like an overgrown child, Vita felt her left hand tremble slightly inside her sleeve. She was still gently clutching the Carousel in her palm.
A trace of hesitation flickered in her eyes, but in the end, she did not take the Carousel out.
She knew Grindelwald too well and understood that it would be useless. Still unable to give up completely, she asked one last question.
"Do you have any further instructions about teaching Shawn?"
Grindelwald released the straw and replied mildly.
"No further instructions. From the bits and pieces you've told me over the past few days, I think you've already done very well."
"Really? Then do you have anything to say to me?"
"You've always been so capable. I have every confidence in you. Oh, and now that your hair is black again, you're just as beautiful as you were decades ago, unlike this decrepit old man."
Far from delighting Vita, Grindelwald's praise extinguished what little hope remained in her eyes.
She drew a deep breath, straightened in her seat, and regained her composure.
"How much more do you know about that Fawley? Is he still on our side? His attitude has been rather strange these past six months. He cooperates, but seems to hold something back. He appears loyal to Shawn, but not entirely."
Grindelwald's expression briefly stilled. He set down his milk tea, tapped his fingers against