𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖆 - 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝟜: 𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖒𝖞𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘

𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝟜: 𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖒𝖞𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 - Chapter Four

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I do not pitch forward this time.

I call it progress, don't you?

Also, it seems that this room is the only one that is not fully deteriorated.

The sweet smells of vanilla and sandalwood waft in the air as incense fills the room with its calming aroma.

It is quiet, but not the deafening kind of silence, as I scan my surroundings. Iron and glass are combined to create a chandelier that hangs low from the vaulted ceiling, casting a rainbow of light all around the space.

Carved bookshelves line the smooth-stone walls of the study, filled with ancient texts and manuscripts, while a grand piano takes up the center of the room. Candles flicker, adding to the ambiance, and plush rugs of different colors cushion the floor. Two large desks are situated near the windows, made of polished mahogany, and topped with thick green velvet mats. On the desks are a few pieces of stationery, a few pens, and an inkwell. An archway leads to a library in the back, with a ladder propped against the bookshelves, and a large fireplace that crackles with warmth. A stuffed armchair sits in front, inviting a cozy evening of reading.

Across the room, sofas are arranged in a U-shape, upholstered in blue velvet, and trimmed with fringe. A few small tables are scattered between them, and an ornate lamp stands in the corner, casting a soft light over the space.

A grandfather clock stands in the corner, ticking away, adding to the timeless atmosphere of the room. The grandfather clock is intricately carved and adorned with gold accents, adding a touch of elegance to the room. Its face is a creamy white, with black Roman numerals, and its pendulum swings slowly back and forth, keeping time with each swing.

I let my eyes wander across the large space, taking in every detail.

Could I be in the same manor?

As Jacob enters the room through the archway, I follow in his wake. He does not seem as awed as I am.

"Where is the prin—"

Jacob abruptly stops walking and I almost run into his back.

"What is it?" As I scan the space, my eyes finally settle on a figure snoring soundly with his head resting on one of the two large desks that flank the windows. How could have I missed him?

But is it truly him?

I press past Jacob and race to this unknown figure. They could have been looking for shelter in the cold forest and had no other choice but to rest in the manor. And in all honesty, I don't blame them.

I climb these short steps leading to the desk and nearly halt halfway there. The light of a single candle illuminates the table, casting a soft glow over the face of the figure passed out at the desk. A glass of wine is spilled over an opened book, the pages wrinkled and stained with the red-tinged liquid. A bottle of liquor sits nearby, almost empty, the last drops trickling out.