- DECLAN
The heavy oak doors of the foyer creaked open, admitting a gust of cool mountain air and Arthur, who looked far too chipper for a man who had just spent six hours navigating cliffside switchbacks. He was carrying two silver cases that probably cost more than a mid-sized sedan.
Arthur didn't just walk into a room; he caught the air inside it. He caught sight of me—still standing there like a ghost in those bandages—and a slow, amused grin spread across his face.
"Look at you," Arthur chirped, setting his cases down on a marble console table with a metallic clack. "Tucked away in a mountain fortress like a tragic princess. I’d say the mystery suits you, Estella, but the mummy-wrap is a bit last season, don't you think?"
He walked right up to her, ignoring the stiff tension radia
