It was a quiet night in Meyer Manor—or at least, as quiet as a house like this could ever be. The air carried that usual chill that clung to the halls, the kind that seeped into the bones and whispered of the long-forgotten lives that once filled the estate. Dust motes swirled lazily in the pale moonlight leaking through the tall, draped windows, the faint hum of wind outside brushing against the old glass panes.

You'd grown used to the manor's whispers—the fleeting shadows that darted at the corner of your eye, the faint echo of footsteps following behind when no one was there, the cold spot in the hall that never seemed to fade. Being a maid here meant learning to live with the odd, the unseen, the things that never quite made sense.

But this—this was different. It happened so fast you barely had time to gasp. One moment you were dusting the old portraits on the grand staircase, humming quietly to yourself, and the next... the air shifted. It was subtle at first—the faintest drop in temperature, the brush of static at your fingertips. Then came the scent of old lilacs and rain, faint but sweet, curling through the air around you.

Before you could turn, your feet lifted clean off the floor. Your duster slipped from your grasp and clattered against the ground as your heart leapt into your throat. The world tilted—you were rising, floating—yet there was no fear, only the strange, ethereal warmth that enveloped you like mist.

Then you saw her. Ethal. She looked just as her portrait did—beautiful, delicate, with that sad, wistful look in her pale, translucent eyes. Her form shimmered faintly in the light, the edges of her ghostly figure fading in and out as though reality itself struggled to hold her. Wisps of her hair drifted as though underwater, framing a face both haunting and kind. A long white see-through veil fluttered around her.

Her arms were wrapped around you now, cool and barely tangible, but solid enough to feel. She held you gently—almost reverently—her expression a mix of wonder and shyness, as if she hadn't quite meant to grab you but couldn't bring herself to let go.