Asher arrived home late, the shadows of the evening wrapping around him like a heavy cloak after a long visit to the Cathedral with Henry.

The mind is willing, but the body is not... alas, I can hardly even traverse the great distance to my bed...

As he stood in the dimly lit corridor of his home, a sudden knock on the door jolted him from his weary thoughts.

He immediately turned alert, flicking the switch that silenced his self-wallowing. Drawing his revolver with practiced ease, he quietly approached the door, the faint creaking of the floorboards echoing in the silence. With a deep breath, he opened it just a crack.

Peering through the narrow opening, he was greeted by the unexpected sight of Renée, her silhouette framed by the faint glow of the street lamps outside.

Oh, for the love of God, who makes a house visit in the evening?

Asher holstered his revolver, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly, and opened the door wider.

“Good evening, Madame Duval. How can I assist you at this hour?”

Renée’s laughter bubbled up like a gentle spring, and she extended her hands, revealing the book she had promised to send.

“Good evening, Monsieur Moretti! I just left the bakery—the aroma of freshly baked goods drew me in. I thought I’d stop by to see if you were home. I hope I’m not being a nuisance?”

Asher felt the fatigue that had settled like a stone in his chest begin to melt away with each melodious word Renée spoke. The warmth of her presence seeped into his weary bones.

“Not at all. Thank you very much,” he replied, reaching out to take the book from her hands.

His face lit up with sudden inspiration.

“Ah! Forgive my lack of manners—would you care to come inside?”

Renée giggled and feigned a hurt expression, her bright eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I suppose I should. It wouldn’t be very polite for a guest to linger outside another’s residence,” she observed, her voice lilting with playful sarcasm.

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Asher stepped aside, allowing her to enter, and closed the door behind her with a soft click. He led her up the staircase, past his bedroom, and onto the terrace, where the cool night air greeted them like an old friend.

“I’ll be back in just a moment; I just returned from the office. Please forgive me,” Asher said, hurrying to the kitchen.

He rummaged through the cabinets, collecting his best bottle of red wine—an absolutely dirt-cheap vintage he had purchased months ago, but one that still held a certain charm. He also grabbed a slender candle from the kitchen table, its wax dripped in delicate patterns. Returning to Renée, he set the candle on the table, lighting it with a match and watching as the small flame flickered to life, casting a warm, inviting glow.

He poured two glasses of wine, ensuring to fill Renée’s first before he took his seat across from her. Asher settled into the chair with a contented sigh, a sense of exhaustion weighing him down. He wasn’t sure he would be able to get back up again if he was being honest. He felt like a candle burning at both ends, its wax pooling beneath.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, leaving a palette of deep indigos and purples in its wake. The early reaches of night began to weave their spell over the world, as the streets of the middle boroughs slowly stirred to life under the glow of gas lamps. Colloway Street below, once bustling with the day’s activities, now lay quiet and serene, with only a few figures moving about, returning home or lost in their own thoughts.

Renée seemed unfazed by his contemplative silence, her presence radiating a comforting energy as she settled into the moment.

Feeling a tinge of mischief, she decided to tease Asher. With dramatic flair, she deepened her voice, attempting to impersonate him.

“Ah, the evening night is surely cold. I so wish there were someone by my side. Perhaps I am destined for loneliness in this cruel world.”

She held back a laugh, but it erupted from her lips like a burst of sunlight breaking through the clouds.

Asher was momentarily stunned, the unexpected jab hitting its mark. Though his pride was somewhat wounded, he couldn’t help but smile. Soon, he found himself joining Renée in her laughter at his expense.

“Have mercy, my lady! I don’t sound like that... all the time, at least.”

Renée wiped a tear of mirth from her eye, her laughter still echoing in the night air. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure.

“Yes, yes, I was just joking. Don’t make such a face. So? Cat got your tongue? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I’ve just had a long day at the office,” he replied, attempting to suppress a yawn.

Renée seemed to possess an uncanny ability to detect nonsense, or perhaps she could just see through him; he wasn’t sure which it was.

“Ah, is that so? I wonder if your office has a leak. How else would you end up smelling like a wet dog?” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“AHEM.”

“Fieldwork... I was investigating in the field today,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Anyhow, I must say, my lady, you are quite nosy today!”

Renée feigned a hurt expression before breaking into a grin, her playful spirit lighting up the terrace.

This woman surely knows how to play the hearts of others! I must stay on my toes. I thought she wasn’t interested in sophistry and mind games, but that was only an indicator of the opposite! She’s well-versed!

“So? What were you investigating? Maybe I can help,” she offered, genuine curiosity shining through her playful demeanor.

“No need; the case is closed, and the suspects are... um, ‘apprehended,’” he replied, choosing his words carefully.

“I see. Well, that’s good! You know, Monsieur Moretti, it is truly a lovely evening. I thought you wouldn’t be in, and if you were, I certainly didn’t expect you to be so bold as to invite me into your home! I thought you gentlemen were all about maintaining decorum.”

Now it was Asher’s turn to tease Renée. He leaned back in his chair, a sly smile playing on his lips.

“Yes, well, you see, down here in the South, while everything you said is true, we do have a saying: ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.’”

He smiled innocently, feigning ignorance of his own implications.

“Oh ho ho! So you bite, do you? Very well, let me tell you something I fu—”

“You know what, Renée? I think it’s better to leave it at that. We are on my terrace, but still, many people can hear us here.”

Asher quickly interjected, panic evident in his voice. A blush crept into his cheeks; he made a mental note never to challenge the Stellarian lady again.

“Hahahahaha!” Renée’s laughter rang through the night, seemingly chasing the smog and shadows away.

Asher glanced at the book Renée had brought him. The title read Eternal Nightmare, its cover adorned with intricate designs that hinted at the mysteries within.