Ulrich strode down the long corridors of the estate, Meera keeping pace beside him. Their walk was filled almost entirely with Meera's animated prattle, her voice echoing lightly off the stone walls, while Ulrich offered only brief responses. For those who knew the Count, this was a change from the norm. Both were maintaining a careful veneer of propriety, yet beneath it, Ulrich seemed to be exercising a rare, enduring patience against the tide of Meera's exaggerated curiosity.
A dozen paces behind, the three sisters trailed them, making little effort to conceal their presence. Their silken skirts brushed against the flagstones, a quiet rustling that Ulrich either did not hear or simply chose to ignore. Emboldened by his indifference, they pressed on.
"She acts far too familiar with him," Hermione whispered, her eyes narrowed at the pair ahead. "It's weird."
Esther wrung her hands, her gaze darting nervously. "Do you truly think so?"
