Inside the room, the heavy door completely sealed off the interior from the outside.
Only when Horace's footsteps had vanished entirely at the end of the corridor did the Night Witch lean against the cold door and let out a long breath, as though a tremendous weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
She pressed a hand to her chest and could feel her heart still racing unevenly.
"That... that scared me to death..." she murmured, her voice trembling faintly with lingering fear, none of the composure or mystery she had shown Horace remaining.
"Just now... the Silver Tears didn't react at all! Not a single warning! I was staring blankly at the Stargazing Pool, wondering what to have for dinner, and then I turned around, and there was this great big stranger standing silently behind me!"
The memory of that moment still left her shaken.
As the witch charged with guarding Nokstella's Moon, she shared a secret connection with certain Tears stationed throughout the palace. Whenever an unauthorized living being approached, the Tears would send her a faint warning.
But just now, she had only noticed him when he pushed open the door and gave a light cough!
Why did the Tears ignore him? After all these years, could these things actually have broken?
And when she noticed him, especially when she sensed him carefully, she felt a pure and powerful blessing of the "moon" entwined around this man.
That distinct sensation had even led her, for an instant, to an absurd association-could the "Empyrean" they had awaited for countless ages have simply appeared like this?
But... their plan to "create a lord" had long since failed.
Even if someone who might be an "Empyrean" appeared, what could that change without a corresponding "lord"?
Yet, almost despite herself, she