The scene, previously buzzing with noise, fell into sudden silence. Bella pressed her lips together, glared at Fiona, then turned her gaze toward the grand gates of the manor.
It wasn't just her—everyone present focused their attention on the estate.
The large gate slowly opened, letting in a wave of cold air—a chill that felt even more biting than the snowstorm outside.
An old man, looking to be around fifty, appeared. He had a slightly hunched back, snow-white hair and beard, wore a monocle, and was dressed in an elegant tailcoat vest.
He gave a faint smile upon seeing the group outside and spoke slowly, "Welcome, travelers from afar. I hope the snowstorm hasn't caused you too much trouble. I am Alexander, the steward of this estate. Come, the storm outside is not safe!"
With that, he turned and led the way into the manor. The others glanced at each other before quickly following behind Alexander.
