The golden spring sunlight streamed into the study, casting a serene glow that contrasted with the tension lingering in the air. The silence had stretched on for days, a fragile façade of peace cloaking the unease beneath.
Hans descended from the third floor, cradling a pair of books in his arms. His hurried steps echoed softly in the corridor lined with towering bookshelves that loomed like silent sentinels. When he reached the arched doorway leading to the central section, Johanna greeted him with a polite bow.
Upon entering the room, he approached the desk, its surface buried under precarious stacks of books. Without hesitation, he added his load to the growing pile.
“These are the last of them, my lady,” he announced.
