The heavy doors of the manor flew open with a deafening thud. Wind rushed in, carrying dust and the faint scent of rain. Seraphina stepped through the threshold, her silver veil whipping around her face as the torches along the corridor flickered in her wake.
The guards at the entrance dropped to their knees immediately. Servants froze mid-step, heads bowed low as she moved past. Her long black robes trailed behind her, sweeping across the marble floor like a shadow that swallowed light.
She didn't speak. Her breath was shallow, her chest rising and falling beneath the fabric that hid her from the world.
Pain laced through every part of her body, deep and unrelenting. Still, she walked on, straight-backed and regal, her hand pressed briefly against her side as if to hold herself together.
