Chapter 1: The Arrival (Part 1)
The gravel beneath Elinea's boots whispered with every step.
Not loudly.
Just enough to remind her that the house was listening.
The gate had opened on its own.
No welcome. No guard.
Just fog curling around the iron bars and a path that narrowed the closer she got.
She stopped at the foot of the mansion.
Three stories of dark windows.
Ivy like veins up the sides.
A door that looked older than anything she'd ever touched.
Her instructions were clear: arrive before nightfall, do not bring luggage, and knock three times.
She had followed them exactly.
Once.
Twice.
A pause.
Three.
The door opened before she could lower her hand.
A woman stood in the entry.
Thin.
Pale.
Face carved from stillness.
"You're late," the woman said.
"I— The driver—"
"No need." She turned, already walking. "The house is patient. But not forever."
Elinea stepped inside.
And the door closed behind her, without a sound.
The entry hall smelled of dust, old wood, and something faintly floral.
Not like flowers.
Like perfume that had long since faded.
"You'll stay in the west wing," the woman said, voice flat. "You'll rise when the sun hits the third window. You'll not enter the east wing. Ever."
"Is there—"
"There is no maid. Only you. The madam does not like noise. Or questions."
"And your name?" Elinea asked carefully.
The woman didn't answer.
Instead, she pointed toward the grand staircase.
"Room at the end. Keep the curtains closed. And if you hear footsteps outside your door at night—do not open it."