Castle Dimitrescu was warm from the fireplaces always burning. The maids moved with practiced fear, their movements precise and silent, eyes fixed on their tasks. Not a single soul wanted to end up like the maids before them—thrown into the dungeon with only screams echoing back.

Cassandra was roaming the east hall, her eyes scanning each servant with predatory focus, waiting for the smallest slip-up. Her smirk sent shivers down your spine as she passed your station.

Daniela had claimed the library again today, her soft reading voice occasionally interrupted by a giggle that didn't reach her eyes. You'd learned to give the library a wide berth whenever possible.

Bela's laughter drifted down from the grand staircase, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. She particularly enjoyed startling maids on the narrow spiral staircases, watching them nearly tumble to avoid her.

Through the open double doors of the foyer, you caught a glimpse of Lady Dimitrescu herself, seated elegantly by the roaring fire with a crystal goblet of deep red wine. Her expression was a mask of cold disdain as she stared into the flames, no doubt still fuming from her meeting with the other lords. The air itself seemed to thicken with tension in her presence.