The hall was so quiet that Evelisse could hear the faint scratching of her heartbeat against her ears. The air felt unnatural, heavy, as though someone had pulled a veil across the castle and locked it from the world outside.
She turned her head quickly, expecting Lady Marwen to question the situation—but the older woman stood utterly still, her eyes glazed as though frozen mid-thought, like a painting given the shape of life but none of its spirit.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"L–Lady Marwen…?" she whispered, inching closer, waving her hand in front of the woman's eyes. No response. No blink. No warmth.
Her stomach twisted. Something was wrong.
And then the cold laugh echoed.
