The chamber was quiet enough that Lucrezia could hear the faint crackle of the fire. She stood there for another moment, her fingers tightening around the book Greed had given her.
The book, she thought, her consciousness returning, but she frowned immediately after. Why had he given it to her?
It was easy enough to tell herself it was simply a gesture of courtesy, perhaps even boredom, yet Greed did not strike her as the sort of man who did anything without a reason.
Her gaze drifted toward the doors. She had questions, but there was no one she trusted enough to ask. And perhaps that was precisely why the book unsettled her.
Lucrezia walked toward the small table near the window and carefully placed it there. She considered opening it, but stopped herself.
Not yet.
She had barely returned from her first walk outside in weeks. The last thing she needed was to spend the rest of the day buried in a book while her mind was still crowded with everything she had seen and heard.
