08

08 | The Silent Mother

The clock on the mantel chimed twelve. Lunchtime.

Ravenna rose from the piano bench, her legs stiff from the hours of sitting. She smoothed down her dress, a simple gown of pale gray wool that matched the emptiness in her chest. She walked to the dining hall, her footsteps echoing in the silence. The corridor was empty, the portraits of her ancestors watching her with their cold, painted eyes. She felt their gaze like a weight on her shoulders, a constant reminder that she was never truly alone.

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