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Chapter 149: Echoes in the Confessional
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Wrapped in the illusion granted by the Veilweaver’s Charm, Noel adjusted the hood of his cloak. His reflection—if one could call it that—was no longer his. Instead, it was Saint Charlotte’s form staring back: soft features, delicate stature, and most notably, that unmistakable pink hair.
Only the strands of that hair peeked out from beneath the hood. The rest of his body was concealed beneath a dark traveling cloak, designed to blend in and deflect attention.
’Forty-f ...
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