One of the offices – Emberheart Estate
The room was dim, lit only by the faint flicker of the flames in the grand hearth. The warmth did little to soften the atmosphere, which felt heavy with unspoken intent. The Matriarch of the Emberheart family sat at her desk, her fingers steepled, her crimson robes glowing faintly like embers in the dim light. The papers before her lay untouched, her sharp eyes fixed instead on the dancing flames in the fireplace.
Esme entered quietly, her steps measured, her expression calm but with a trace of concern visible in her furrowed brow. She bowed her head slightly as she approached, waiting for acknowledgment before speaking.
"Matriarch," Esme began, her voice as steady as ever, though her words carried a weight of uncertainty. "Will it really be okay? The measures you've set in motion—they are harsh, even for Young Lady. You've always tested her, but this... this feels different."