Vane stood in the doorway of Villa 1, the cool evening air clinging to his skin. He looked at Valerica, who remained on the porch with an expectant expression. Behind her, the carriage horses shifted their weight, their breath misting in the dim light. The invitation hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. He had spent the last hour convincing himself that isolation was exactly what he needed, but looking at Valerica, he felt that certainty slipping.
"You are serious about this," Vane said, his voice flat but not unkind.
Valerica leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her leather traveling jacket. "I do not make jokes about my father's estate, Vane. It is not a place anyone goes to for a laugh. I am serious because I know how you work. You will sit in this living room, stare at that fire, and push your core until you cough up silver. You need a change of scenery before you lose your mind."
