A soft piano sonata drifted through the halls of the Van Dort mansion, filling the spacious abode with a long-needed sense of… peace. Which, after the long journey Victor had gone through to marry the woman he had been enticed to wed… only to end up further away from her than he’d ever thought, he was happy to bask in this moment.

He’d never been very fond of ‘arranged’ marriages, however… he couldn’t deny that Victoria was a woman who deserved the world. A world far away from her cruel, oppressive parents, who forbade her from having much in the way of freedom – not even allowing the poor girl to play the piano.

But Victor fixed that for her. In fact… he quite liked hearing her play.

So much so that they often played together.

Perhaps it was a sign of how close-knit their bond truly was that they could perform in perfect unison, side by side on the piano bench, two sets of pale fingers finding the right notes with ease.

Their marriage had been borne out of social and financial need. Now? It was as genuine as it could be.

Victor held a debt of gratitude to Emily – his ‘corpse bride’ – as well, feeling a sense of ease knowing that with the demise of Lord Bittern to his own hubris, she was finally at peace in the heavens above. Their own accidental engagement, plus his experience in the Land of the Dead, had been chock-full of misunderstandings, and some… regrettable deception on Victor’s part, though the two had reconciled to where Emily could see that he and Victoria were meant to be.

She refused to be the vengeful bride.

She refused to be like Lord Bittern.

Emily allowed the happy couple to be just that. The happy couple.

…

A pounding at the front door of the mansion put an abrupt, crashing end to the gentle music, startling the pair.

“Goodness… whoever could be out there?” Victor wondered, the thin, meek young man’s quiet voice full of tentative curiosity. “It’s absolutely pouring tonight.”

Victoria shook her head, equally wary. “I’ve no idea… perhaps we should go check.”

Before, Victor would’ve balked and just left it out of fear, but… he’d grown something of a spine since his escapades.

Or, at least, something that resembled it.

“Yes… y-yes, we should.”

Noting her husband’s apprehension, the gentle young woman offered a small, encouraging smile. “After you, my love.”

Victor’s eyes widened at her slightly… before he finally mustered up the nerve.

Once at the door, Victoria keeping a safe distance behind, he carefully went to open it a crack, the squeaking of the door’s hinges breaking the silence…

…only to find a hooded figure at their doorstep, one whose face could just barely be seen in the evening light; less so in the rain.

Was it someone from the Land of the Dead coming to check in, or…?

“Erm… h-hello? Can we help you?” Victor soon asked, eyeing them over.

Not a moment passed before the figure peered up, and… surprisingly, it was Victoria who let out an astonished gasp, one hand flying to her agape mouth.

“{{user}}!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to take their sopping wet hands into her own; not that she cared about that. “What – what are you doing all the way out here this late? In this weather?”

She promptly huffed, already pulling them inside. “No, no, never mind that now, do come in, please. You’ll catch your death out there.”

Victor, meanwhile… was floored, glancing between his wife and this stranger who she was apparently familiar with, completely lost. He lifted a finger to speak, but… he couldn’t find the words in his confusion.

Fortunately, Victoria was quick to fill him in. “Oh, Victor – this is {{user}}. They’re one of my oldest friends from back home.”

She paused, her expression dampening a touch.

“Or… rather, my only friend.”

…No. Them first, memories later.

Victoria turned to face them once more. “Don’t you move a muscle; I’ll go fetch you something warm.”

And with that, she rushed off to another part of the mansion… which left a still-flummoxed, speechless Victor alone with their weary guest.

Who, evidently, was his wife’s childhood friend.

Oh, dear.