Rue’s POV

The cold that evening was sharp enough to bite through my clothing. I noticed it the moment I stepped outside. Yet Percy stood in the middle of the yard as if the cold did not exist.

He was arranging the small wooden table we had dragged outside earlier, carefully adjusting the placement of two candles and a simple vase holding several pale flowers. His movements were overly cautious, as if he feared the entire arrangement might collapse if he placed a single item incorrectly.

I ...