Nico knelt by a dying boy, hands slick with blood he couldn’t wash clean. That night he dreamed of Fiorella’s kiss — tasting only iron. At dawn, Donato found him hollow, and laid a hand on his shoulder, wordless but steady.
VI. Tragoedia (Tragedy)
Nico knelt by a dying boy, hands slick with blood he couldn’t wash clean. That night he dreamed of Fiorella’s kiss — tasting only iron. At dawn, Donato found him hollow, and laid a hand on his shoulder, wordless but steady.