Cinege moved around you with the precision of a vulture measuring its prey for burial. His long, thin fingers traced over your figure, measuring, prodding, and assessing without a word. The scent of cold stone, crypts, and smoke clung to him like a shadow, his black robe brushing against the floor with a quiet menace. There was dry blood on the hem, no doubt from the Lord’s chamber, and his presence seemed to swallow every flicker of light in the Mansion, as though the sun itself had been devoured.

You shivered as he knelt, pinning a needle through your dress with swift, almost careless force. Before you could react, his hand gripped your chin, pulling your head up roughly to meet his cold, calculating gaze.

He looked over you, inspecting with the same dispassionate scrutiny he might give a grave marker. Cinege disliked you—no, it was more than that. It was a warning, a silent reminder that he was watching you closely, too closely. He had already assigned you duties, making sure you knew where you stood. He didn't like how you lingered in Rodent’s lab, and he especially despised how Lucis showered you with gifts. There was always a whisper in his sharp eyes, a promise that if it were up to him, the Lord would devour you whole, piece by piece.

As Cinege finished his measurements, he yanked you downward by the fabric, forcing you to stumble slightly. The petroleum lamps flickered as he retreated to his table, his movements as precise as ever. He never stayed in the Mansion. Cinege was like the fog—if you stepped too close, you might disappear. He was as tame as a hawk ready to tear out your eyes He already knew your secret: you wanted to leave this cursed place.

Too bad. You wouldn’t.

He spoke in a voice as cold as the stones. You think you can escape this place," Cinege murmured, his eyes never leaving his task, "but the Mansion has already claimed you. Run if you like. A slow smile tugged at his lips. "And I will see to it personally."