[The dust motes float in the air, catching light here and there and drawing Zack's attention to their dance for a moment. Lucrezia seems almost like the dust at times, almost like she too could be blown away on a puff of air. Perhaps he's simply reading too much into her recent loss, but part of his brain does wonder why she chose to come to such an abandoned building.]
Who shelters you now, Lucrezia? Who is your anchor?
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Who shelters you now, Lucrezia? Who is your anchor?