The interior corridors of Wykes Manor were long and silent at that time of day. Sunlight streamed through the tall stained-glass windows at oblique angles, painting the stone floor with golden and bluish hues. Damon walked slowly, his hands in his pockets, his mind too far away to notice the almost luxurious comfort of the place.
Elizabeth.
He frowned slightly as he turned a corner.
"What do you want so badly..." he murmured to himself, his low voice echoing just enough to be swallowed by the ancient walls. "And why does everything have to be such a damn mystery?"
It bothered him more than he cared to admit. Elizabeth never did anything without a reason. Every word, every invitation, every "possibility" came laden with layers that only revealed themselves later—sometimes too late to turn back.
He let out a slow sigh.
— It almost seems like she's trying to assemble a harem for me…
The idea arose almost as an inside joke, but it didn't immediately dissipate.
Aria.
Ester.
