The Butler’s Warning

Aldric moved through the dim corridor with slow, deliberate steps, the tails of his coat brushing quietly against the polished floor. Velora followed, her eyes darting between the portraits that lined the walls stern men, pale women, all painted in tones that made their expressions seem too sharp, too observant.

“Who are they?” she asked, unable to ignore the way their eyes seemed to track her movement.

“Former residents of Ravenscar,” Aldric replied without looking back. “The estate has been in existence for over two centuries. Many lives have passed through these halls.”

Velora tugged her suitcase closer to her side. “So… people live here? Or lived here?”

“Lived,” Aldric said simply.

His tone didn’t reveal anything more.

They reached a staircase that spiraled upward, its railing made of dark iron twisted into ornate shapes. Velora felt as if the steps themselves disliked being touched.

Aldric paused.

“There is one matter I must clarify before you settle in,” he said, turning to face her.

Velora’s stomach tightened. “Okay… what matter?”

“The estate requires caretaking, yes,” he began. “But the role is more… involved than the agency may have indicated.”

“Involved how?” she asked, brows knitting.

“You are not merely maintaining the house,” he continued, “but observing it.”

Velora blinked. “Observing… the house?”

Aldric’s expression didn’t shift. “Certain rooms behave unpredictably. Doors that jam. Lights that flicker despite no electrical source. Drafts where no drafts should exist. You are to document anything unusual.”

She let out a breathy laugh.

“So basically a maintenance log?”

“If that makes it easier to understand,” Aldric replied calmly.

They reached the landing.

A long hallway stretched ahead, lit only by wall sconces flickering with weak, golden flame.

Velora hesitated.

“Is… is there anyone else staying here?”

Aldric’s answer came immediately.

“No.”

The flame behind him fluttered as if disagreeing.

He continued walking, and Velora followed though this time she felt the unmistakable sensation of someone behind her, watching from the shadows of the staircase. She turned around to see no one around.

But something in the upper dark shifted as she passed.

Aldric opened a door on the right.

“This will be your room, Miss Hart.”

Velora stepped inside, letting her eyes adjust to the warm lamplight. The space was tidy, furnished with antique pieces, the window overlooking the fog-thick grounds.

Aldric placed a small brass key on the desk.

“For your privacy,” he said.

“And your peace of mind.”

“Peace of mind?” Velora repeated.

“You may hear sounds at night. Old houses tend to speak.”

A small smile touched his lips, too faint to interpret.

“Do not be alarmed.”

She swallowed hard. “I’ll try?”

“Dinner will be at seven,” Aldric said with a bow. “If you require anything, ring the bell by the door.”

He turned to leave, closing the door softly behind him.

Velora exhaled, finally alone.

For a moment, Velora stood in the center of the room, listening.

Nothing.

Just the distant hum of wind pressing against the old glass panes.

She set her suitcase on the bed and unzipped it slowly. The room wasn’t large, but it carried a quiet, old-world charm a carved dresser, velvet curtains, a writing desk beneath the window. Everything looked carefully maintained, yet untouched by modern life.

She moved to the window and pressed her palm lightly to the cold glass.

Beyond it, the grounds stretched wide and gray, trees bending like silhouettes caught mid-whisper. No movement. No lights. No sign of anyone else.

“Creepy but manageable… I think,” she muttered.

Turning back, her gaze fell on the writing desk. A thick layer of dust covered its surface except for one perfectly clean circle, the size of a small cup or candle.

Velora frowned.

“Aldric said no one else lives here…”

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***