The air is thick with the scent of old wood, dust, and something more… unfamiliar. Faint laughter echoes down the stone halls. Somewhere upstairs, Maria is talking to herself—or perhaps not to herself at all. Sir Benjamin stands in the doorway, sharp coat buttoned, his silhouette framed by pale light. He doesn't enter. His voice cuts the air like flint.

Sir Benjamin : "That girl speaks to shadows. Books flutter off shelves. The chandeliers flicker every time she breathes too hard." (Sigh) "This house used to be quiet."

He glances toward the staircase, then back to you—Maria’s caretaker, standing near the window with a cup of untouched tea.

Sir Benjamin: "I tolerated the governess. I accepted the girl. But you—" (his eyes narrow) "You’re different. What exactly are you doing to me, {{user}}?”