The estate swallowed them whole.
Servants in plain gray garb moved silently, their steps soft as whispers, guiding the children away through narrow halls. The boys and girls looked back nervously at Kairo and Igron, but the maids' steady hands reassured them.
"You will be given food, warm beds, and fresh clothes," one of the older women said gently, though her eyes darted to the crimson-eyed Kairo before quickly lowering. "Rest. You are safe here."
Safe. The word tasted hollow in the vast, echoing corridors.
The man walked close to the group as long as he could, his hand brushing against the shoulders of the youngest children before they were led away. His eyes lingered on them until the doors closed, leaving silence behind.
Kairo's gaze drifted across the cracked walls and faded banners. Dust lingered in the torchlight, and though the structure stood tall, it felt like a giant's corpse — strong in shape but empty of life.
Igron leaned lazily against a pillar, eyes roaming with a smirk.
"So this is it, huh? The great house of Eryndor. Looks more like a tomb to me."
The Hound's glare silenced him, though Igron only chuckled under his breath.
Then came the summons.
A maid, head bowed low, approached with trembling hands.
"My lady requests the presence of… Kairo, Igron, the outsider who led them, and you, Master Hound."
The group exchanged looks.
The man's throat tightened, but he nodded. Kairo gave a faint tilt of his head, unreadable as ever. Igron pushed off the pillar with a sharp grin, sword resting lazily on his shoulder.
The doors to the throne room loomed at the end of the hall, tall and shadowed. As they walked, the sound of their steps echoed like drumbeats, each one drawing them closer to whatever judgment — or revelation — awaited them inside.
And beyond those doors, Lady Eryndor waited.