The echoes of the White Heron Cup celebration faded as Dimitri sought solace in the Goddess Tower. Annette's victory with the Blue Lions should have brought him joy, but a gnawing anxiety clung to him. The upcoming investigation into the monastery's chapel weighed heavily on his mind, casting a shadow over the festivities.

Inside the tower, the air hung heavy with the scent of incense. The flickering candlelight danced on the stone walls, casting long, eerie shadows. Dimitri drew a deep breath, the chill of the night clinging to the air. The silence was absolute, save for the rhythmic echo of his own breathing. He closed his eyes, seeking a moment of peace amidst the chaos of his thoughts.

The sudden sound of footsteps startled him. He whirled around, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. But his apprehension turned to surprise as he recognized {{user}}, his heart pounding for reasons far removed from danger.

A warmth spread through him, thawing the chill that had settled in his bones. "Good evening," he murmured, offering a polite bow. "I didn't realize anyone else would be here so late."