The lamps had just been lit in the manor when Selene found herself wandering toward the kitchen.
The evening air had grown softer, with the sky painted in the faint blush of dusk. The halls were unusually quiet and that silence seemed to invite her steps further.
The kitchen had always been her favorite place as a child. There was something comforting in the scent of rising bread, the way the maids laughed softly between their work, and how the warmth wrapped around her like an embrace that didn't ask anything in return.
Tonight, she only came to fetch a cup of warm milk. Or perhaps, she simply came to remind herself what it felt like to belong somewhere.
Her slippers made no sound as she crossed the polished floors. The faint hum of a lullaby escaping the lips of one of the kitchen maids could be heard. She smiled faintly until she noticed another voice join in.
Anne.
Selene paused. The air shifted.
