The London night was a deep, velvet bowl dusted with diamond and amber. From the penthouse balcony, the city was not a threat, nor a kingdom to be managed, but a magnificent, distant diorama—a testament to the humming life of millions, its lights glittering like a promise kept.Anton stood at the railing, a faint evening breeze stirring the hair at his temples. He held a glass of water, the condensation cool against his palm. Behind him, through the open door, the soft strains of a jazz standard drifted out—Sabatine’s choice, something old and warm and uncomplicated.They had dined simply. They had talked of nothing in particular—a funny email from Leon, the progress on the Highland library’s timber frame, the inexplicable popularity of a particular brand of hot sauce among the Academy’s first years. The conversation was the gentle, meandering stream of a life lived in profound peace.Now, in the quiet aftermath, Anton felt the weight of the moment, not as a burden, but as a fullness.
最終更新日 : 2025-12-19 続きを読む