Julian did not press at once. He simply remained beside her, letting silence stretch in a way that felt natural rather than suffocating. After a time, Vanessa's gaze drifted toward the distant lights of the outer walls.
"Do you remember," she said suddenly, "when we were children and used to sneak into the old garden behind the east wing?"
Julian did not remember. Those memories belonged to the original Kraven, not to him. Still, he turned his head slightly toward her and answered in a calm tone.
"The one with the broken fountain."
A faint, almost nostalgic smile touched Vanessa's lips.
"Yes. You always insisted we could repair it if we just stacked enough stones in the right place. We never could, of course. The water still leaked everywhere. Mother was furious when she found us soaked and wet."
She spoke slowly, as if each detail were something she had not taken out in a long time.
