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The familiar iron gates of the Ravenastra manor appeared ahead.
CREAK.
The heavy gates swung open, revealing the long gravel path to the family estate. The manor looked impressive—black stone and silver wood stretching up toward the sky, all bathed in orange sunset light.
The carriage rolled into the courtyard. Servants stood in perfect lines, backs straight. The new ones couldn't hide their curiosity. The older ones kept their eyes respectfully lowered.
Astrael stepped out.
"Welcome home, Young Lord," the butler said with a bow. His voice was old and rough, but respectful. "The Baron is in his study. The Lady is also present there."
Astrael nodded without speaking. His eyes swept the courtyard once. The air smelled of cedar and faint lavender; his mother always insisted on that scent for the west gardens.
He walked into the estate quietly, ignoring the stares. The halls were silent except for his footsteps echoing on the marble floors.
