By sunrise the next day, the Dorne estate had already begun to suffer.
The once dusty, silent halls now echoed with the sound of reckless footsteps, half-formed arguments, and at least one explosion that Wallace swore was "completely under control." Spoiler: it wasn't.
I stood at the center of the inner courtyard, sipping tea from a cracked cup I'd "borrowed" from what used to be a display cabinet. Felix had already tried three times to get me to stop walking around like I owned the place. Naturally, I ignored him.
"Professor," Mira said as she emerged from the side hall, covered in dust and holding what looked like a cursed umbrella, "is this a magical artifact or just really ugly?"
"Does it whisper when you hold it?" I asked without looking up.
"Yes."
"Then yes. Cursed and ugly."
She nodded like that made perfect sense.
Meanwhile, Garrick was trying to fix a broken gate by... punching it repeatedly.
