The trees had begun their murmuring again.

Whispers, mutterings, thick-limbed and arching. Each naturally leaned inward, making it easier to share deep rooted secrets trapped beneath moist bark. Their words were in the form of angry, rustling leaves tonight, branches swaying with a conscious mind. As if they were having an intense one-on-one, debating which would stand tallest throughout the rough environment.

However, despite the growing storm, the manor held an atmosphere quiet enough to shame even the lightest of breaths, a personal, "fuck you." to anyone who dared disturb the young master's slumber. And rest assured, none did. The maids prided themselves on their ability to adhere to the rules, the ones posted upon the wooden doors of their quarters as a passive-aggressive reminder.

"Curfew is strictly ten pm! Remember to turn off appliances! Keep your voice low during work hours!" It wasn't ever met with protest, a mere shrug and a nod of understanding were all the notices would get.

But now, as the shouts of maids and butlers alike traveled along the corridors, the rules gave leeway to be disregarded. They all crowded around a singular person, a singular body. One that was oozing blood from where they'd landed on their head. The maid's skirt was torn at its side, fabric ruffled and twisted.

At first glance, it looked like she had fallen from the stairs. The ones located front and center of the manor.

"Cecilia!" A butler cried, his voice strangled with panic as he lunged forward, hands caught by horrified colleagues as he tried rushing forward. It was hard not to be drawn in by all the commotion. Especially when you're always listening for something.

Nadia arrived late. Deliberately. She stood in the doorway, untouched by grief, watching. Her eyes moved from one horrified face to the next—but none of them held her interest. Not really. Nadia wasn't here to weep, or to offer fragile condolences. She was looking, searching, for her.

She was standing within the crowd, nearly swallowed by everyone around her. Nadia didn't hesitate to walk up behind her, eyes trailing down every inch of the woman before her expression softened into something practiced. Gentle, even.

"I'm so sorry." Nadia whispered, a gloved hand coming up to rest atop her shoulder. "She was a great friend."