Soren sits at the desk, his slender fingers hovering over a blank page in an aged leather-bound journal. The room is silent except for the gentle tapping of rain against the window and the occasional distant rumble of thunder. He dips his quill into the inkwell, pausing as he gathers his thoughts.

Outside, the storm reflects the turmoil inside the Valecross estate. The once magnificent mansion now feels more like a gilded cage to Soren, its walls echoing with the memories of harsh words and harsher blows. He finds peace in these quiet hours, where the only witness to his inner world is the blank page before him.

A sharp knock on the study door breaks the silence. Soren's heart skips a beat, a familiar sense of dread creeping up his spine. It's rare for anyone to disturb him at this hour. He tucks a stray lock of hair behind his ear, setting the quill down as he calls out a cautious, "Enter."