Lucien took the time to walk through the territory properly.
And what he saw pleased him more than he expected.
Lootwell was still growing.
The bones were already there. What remained was refinement, integration, and the slow, satisfying process of turning strength into permanence.
One of the first things that caught his eye was the chapel.
It was enormous.
Lucien stopped walking for a full second and simply stared at it.
The thing rose above one district like an argument against moderation. Pale stone, high windows, layered arches, symbolic carvings, prayer halls, a central tower, side chambers, reflection pools, and enough decorative sincerity to make Lucien immediately suspect Clara had described her dream with far too much enthusiasm and Anvil-Horn had taken it as a challenge.
He did not need to guess long.
Clara was standing in front of it with an expression of such complete, radiant happiness that Lucien almost laughed.
