Pearl, her face pinched with worry, was just leaving Caspian Acheron’s room, a silver tray in her hands piled with breakfast things. She stopped at the sight of Coral and Doctor Thornheart walking up the grand stairs to the first floor.
“Good morning. You must be the Doctor.” Pearl greeted. She walked the few steps away from the door she had just vacated, as though she were disturbing the man inside.
Coral hurried up the stairs, eager to depart as soon as she were able to rid herself of her wet clothes. Doctor Thornheart on her heels. “This is Sirona Thornheart.” Coral introduced as she made the last five steps and motioned to her sister. “And this is my sister Pearl.”
The Doctor bobbed her head in greeting.
“Mister Acheron is awake. Though he doesn’t seem too inclined to eat breakfast.” Pearl said, a little crestfallen.
“I can assure you this is perfectly normal for him. Caspian Acheron has never been a big eater.” Doctor Thornheart said in a reassuring way. A calmness brushed over Coral, and Pearls shoulder’s visibly relaxed. Coral’s headache eased slightly, and the cold that had settled into her bones no longer felt as though it was terrible. As Doctor Thornheart stepped up towards the door, Coral realised the calming feeling had radiated from the Doctor. With each step that separated Coral, the feeling dissipated.
That was a convenient trick Coral wished she could do.
Doctor Thornheart knocked smartly on Mister Acheron’s door and without waiting for permission, she pushed the door open and strode in. “What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time,” she said serenely, her voice a soothing lullaby to Coral’s ears. The door swung closed, cutting off Mr Acheron’s reply.
No longer within the Doctor’s calming aura, Pearl worried at her lower lip. A moment later, they both seemed to realise they were standing mesmerised on the landing, looking vacantly at each other. Pearl released her lip, blinked and then gasped.
“You look like a drowned fish,” she said, surprised as though she had only just taken in Coral’s dishevelled appearance.
“It’s a little rainy today,” Coral said needlessly. The gentle patter of rain drops on the window emphasised the needlessness of her statement. “Don’t let that go to waste,” Coral motioned at the untouched food before turning on her heel and headed to her bedroom, finally in search of some warm clothes.
Coral had the luxury of a bathroom connected to her bedroom. She had selected it specifically, even if it were one of the smaller rooms. She closed the door to her room, not bothering to lock her door, and stripped off her sodden clothes with vigour. The material clung to her like a second skin, and it took a great deal of shimmying to peel everything off. She left the clothes in a damp huddle on the floor, pulled out a spare towel from her cupboard and wrapped it around herself. When towelling dry did little to warm her, she decided that she was due a soak in the tub.
The bathroom was freezing when she swung the wooden door open. She padded quickly over the icy tiles and turned the copper taps on full blast for hot water. She stood back, shivering slightly, admiring how even in this derelict old manor, there were luxuries like running hot water. A most excellent surprise, as there was little else in the way of good fortune when looking at the state the manor was in.
The style of the bathroom wasn’t to Coral’s taste, but it was convenient. The white tiles were inlaid with small black diamonds spotted throughout. The basin was soiled with a stubborn stain that refused to be scrubbed away. A mirror set in a handsome wooden frame had a spiderwebbed crack running from the top, shattering her image back in multifaceted reflections.
The claw foot tub was set against the wall across from the sink, and in between these two bathing necessities was a floor to ceiling window. Completely filthy from the outside, it marred any clear view she may have had if she were to gaze from her position in the bath.
If it were cleaned, a long soak in the tub with a beautiful view of the forest would be wonderful. She should use that for advertising.
The walls were lined halfway with a dark mahogany wood. Above this was a hideous floral wallpaper. It peeled away on sections of the wall above the bath. She was going to have to replace the wallpaper, even if it wasn’t peeling. The lime green leaf and pink flowers clashed terribly with the rest of the room.
Coral picked at a piece that was hanging limply from the wall while the bathroom filled with steam. A small section peeled away neatly, the paper ripping upwards. A large chunk fell away and almost landed in the tub before she caught it, her hand brushing the surface of the water. She hissed at the heat, quickly pulling her hand back and dropped the wallpaper to the floor. The room was steaming up quickly, so she turned back to the faucets and adjusted the temperature. The bathroom was cast in a gloomy light from the window, so while she waited for the water to no longer be scalding, she lit the standing iron candle holder to light up one section of the room.
The draped curtain from the window, also a monstrous lime green, fluttered gently as she turned around. Coral watched it a moment, searching for a draft from an askew piece of glass or crack in the window. There wasn’t anything. Not even the candle flames flickered. The steam in the bathroom didn’t swirl. The only thing that moved was her shivering body.
Uncaring that the water was still quite hot, Coral began to place one foot after the other into the water, wincing at the heat. After a moment of adjusting to the temperature, she lowered herself slowly. Blissfully, she submerged her whole body, letting her head sink below the surface. The water thundered in her ears from the running tap, so she turned it off and relaxed, letting the warmth seep into her half-frozen limbs.
The tap dripped, the rain had picked up again outside, pelting against the window, and it was soothing her headache. Bliss.
Except now in the quiet hush, there was a scratching noise that the water faucet had hidden. A small scritch of a noise like a mouse worrying away at something. Coral was going to have to get a cat, she didn’t need mice making their home in the walls of the manor.
She still needed a name for the Inn as well. Coral really didn’t fancy naming it something gloomy, as much as Direwood had embraced its namesake. She wouldn’t go with anything that had anything to do with the sea either, as much as she would like to. Coral’s mother had been fond of the sea. It was unfortunately a giant flag to the world of “Here I am, come find me father.”
Coral frowned. No, her father was dead. She was sure of it. Whatever her betrothed felt he was entitled to, he would be more than welcome to the house that terrible excuse for a father had in the city. She would never nudge a single toe over its threshold.
It didn’t have mice though, she thought as the scratching became more insistent. She shuffled a little, the water trickling as she pulled a washcloth from the edge of the tub. She soaked it and then slung it over the top of her head, covering her eyes. The scratching stopped.
Coral needed a name that matched Direwood so that she didn’t stand out too much. Her name and face had already been gossiped about clearly. It was reassuring to know that no one visited often. None of her acquaintances or friends would find her, she was safe. It would pose a challenge to entice visitors to her doorstep. The scratching started up again.
Quiet Hollow? No, she didn’t want a quiet place. She wanted the inn to be bustling with guests. Shivering Spire? Oh, no that wouldn’t work, it made the manor sound cold. It was, but that wasn’t the point.
“Ssh mouse, I’m trying to think,” she said aloud. It didn’t really work; the mouse was back scratching enthusiastically, chewing away at the wall above her head. She sunk lower into the tub, the washcloth pushed back off her face and she took up the bar of soap resting on the lip. She lathered her feet, taking care with her tender toes.
Scratch. Scritch. Drip. Scratch.
Coral scrubbed at her legs, working fast so she could dip them back into the delicious warmth. Even with all this steam, the bathroom was still cold.
Maybe she could take advantage of the manor’s dark past? The Undead’s Rest. Coral shivered at that thought. Definitely not. The Olde Inn? The Mouses House? Direwood Guesthouse?
None of these worked either.
She worked the soap up the rest of her body and rinsed off in the water. She lay there staring at the peeling wallpaper blooms, the steam swirling around her face as she breathed. A section of wallpaper lifted slowly from the wall. Coral watched the edges curl up.
Perhaps Coral could call the manor something that she liked. Then, what did she like? She stared blankly for a moment, realising that she wasn’t sure. This last month had been the first time in her life she could do whatever she pleased. It was hard, discovering things about oneself when freedom had been all that she craved. She had that now.
Her sister Pearl had always been fond of beautiful things, being a beauty herself. It had been Pearl really that had made her take that leap of faith and escape her father’s clutches. She hadn’t wanted that gentleness in Pearl to die at the hands of a man she didn’t know, sold off like she was a lamb. Coral had sought their freedom for Pearl, really, more than for herself.
The moonflowers covering the grounds was beautiful. They trailed over everything, flowering in masses of white and blue. Pearl had fawned over them on their first arrival. Perhaps, Moonflower Inn?
This sounded right. Coral had a name now.
Satisfied, Coral let the quiet and the warmth wash over her. The rain had quieted again, and now that she was paying more attention, the scratching was quite close to her. It was increasingly irritating. She slapped the water’s surface, splashing about just to disturb the mouse, hoping it would stop in its fright. It didn’t cease. The wallpaper she was mindlessly watching twitched. Coral stopped moving, her eyes trained directly at the wall.
It hadn’t really moved, had it?
Slowly, the curling paper lifted further, peeling up and away from the wall. The end stretched as though something pulled at it, anchored with weight. The wallpaper fell away. Beneath, there were scratched marks.
Coral didn’t dare move. When nothing else happened, she decided it was just her fanciful imaginations. The bathroom was gloomy, and the discovery that her Moonflower Inn had been the home of a necromancer had sat horribly in her stomach. No one wanted to deal with death magic.
Although, there had been those shadows. She had seen them flit about the house in her time here.
Hesitantly, Coral reached over her head. She picked at a torn piece of wallpaper, then peeled it back. Beneath, more marks were scratched into the wall. Letters. Messy, as though it had been done by a child. The paper tore off in her wet fingers. Coral got to her knees and worked at the next piece. It came away with some work.
HELP
Coral didn’t dare breathe. Her heart hammered in her ears, and she could feel her pulse thrum in her veins. Slowly, a line scratched unevenly below the word in small sections, right before her eyes.
Coral cried out, slipped and fell. Bathwater spilled over the sides of the tub as she floundered in panic. She heaved herself out of the bath, her feet slipping on wet tiles. She reached for a robe and threw it around herself as she ran from the bathroom. She slammed the door closed and backed away from it, never turning away. The back of her knees hit the canopy bed, and she plopped down, afraid to look away.
The scratching had happened right above her head. Right as she was bathing. Completely unclothed!
Her fright was overruled by her outrage. How dare some spirit invade her privacy. Coral was still entitled to her privacy regardless of if it the individual interrupting her was alive or not.
“That was atrociously rude of you!” Coral called out. The bathroom remained quiet. Whatever spirit was inside the bathroom ignored her, as far as she could tell. “At the very least, you could wait until it is midday, sunny and I am fully dressed. Not Bathing.”
Coral ignored the fact that it was in fact an hour and a half away from midday. It was gloomy outside, which didn’t help matters by casting the manor in a pallid excuse for sunlight. Midday, in a bright room with the sun’s warmth at her back, perhaps Coral would be less nervous to discuss niceties with a departed spirit. Talking to the dead wasn’t something Coral had ever thought herself to do. That was a job for adventurers.
She was going to need to put in a request to Direbrook Adventurers Guild. Coral’s heart plummeted somewhere below her navel.
Adventurers were expensive. What was more, was that her purse was running dangerously low on coin. She would never be able to afford the fee to remove any ghosts.
Coral watched the warm glow of candlelight from beneath the door groove, breath baited for any flicker of movement. When nothing further happened, she steeled herself for a moment and cleared her throat.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“This is my estate now. Every square inch of earth, stone and tree. I’ll not have you trespass. You keep out of my bathroom, or you’ll be sorry.” Coral said, gripping the sheets in her hands. She had hoped her voice would come out strong, but to her own ears she sounded washed out and there was a quiver in a few syllables.
Silence greeted her ears. After another two minutes of uneventful sitting on her bed, Coral huffed in impatience. Not even a tiny scratch at the wall broke the quiet. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it really hadn’t been nothing. A protest at the very least at being yelled at, ghosts didn’t take kindly to aggravated yelling. Or so, she had read once in a textbook she had picked up regarding the different schools of magic. She had briefly touched upon Necromancy and death magic, the book giving an explanation that spirits were unruly and difficult to control as they had their own agenda’s. If they were tied to this world, they would become irritable at best, and deadly at worst. Coral had lost that morbid textbook quickly after the first few pages. On purpose, of course.
Coral couldn’t withstand the anticipation any further. This nothingness was going to set her on edge and she would rather something happen already. She released the bed covers, slipped her feet back into slippers, and then inspected the bathroom door from a good five steps away.
The door looked fine. So, she stepped carefully up to it, turned the brass handle and gently pushed it ajar by an inch. She pressed her head up against the door and peaked through the gap.
The bathroom was quiet. She searched the shadows and found no silhouette of an unearthly entity. Only a full steaming bathtub. Coral inched the door a little wider, peering wide-eyed about the room. Nothing, not even a ghostly whisper.
“Hello?” She said quietly into the empty room. She hadn’t really expected a verbal response, however, the flames on the candelabra flickered in her direction.
“If you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if we could cooperate whilst I am the Lady of the manor. I kindly request you vacate my bathroom to another section of the house.”
No response.
“And, to not intrude upon my person whilst I am using the bathroom.” She added.
The condensation on the mirror parted as a single line drew down the centre of the mirror. Then another line, forming a jagged ‘Y’.
Coral stared at the finger marks and clenched her shaking hands into fists. She felt both too frightened to move and outraged that this ghost had seen her in the buff. How long had it been leering at her? Surely it hadn’t been lecherously perusing her bathing since she arrived. Coral was about the explain to the ghost why exactly she required privacy for herself, when another line next to the Y wiped across the mirror.
Coral remained stock still as the word ‘YES’ formed slowly.
Yes? Yes to what? That the ghost would leave her bathroom?
“Thank you,” Coral said quickly, assuming that it was agreeing to her request. Feeling a little more confident she added, “I appreciate that this is a difficult move for you, and,” Coral stopped talking when the letters fogged over, and new letters began to etch onto the glass.
HELP.
Coral didn’t like where this was going. The dead were able to communicate with those that they thought could assist them with unfinished business. Coral did not understand how or even why the ghost thought that she could help.
She went to say as much, when the mirror started to display another array of letters across the surface.
BASEMENT
Oh no, that was a terrible idea. Coral would not follow some ghost into the basement. That was a fool’s errand. She wouldn’t be tricked by the undead, and now that she had a better grasp of what the ghosts’ intentions were, she certainly didn’t trust it.
“I can’t,” Coral said in what she hoped was a sympathetic sort of tone, rather than terrified anger. “I have a guest to tend to right now. Perhaps at another more convenient time.”
There was a shudder to the room and the hair on her arms stood on end, as though she just passed through a static aura of energy. The flames on the candelabra went out. The bathroom was still bright enough in the pale sunlight from the window that she could see, but the shadows set deeper into the corners of the room. Without bothering to empty the bath, Coral stepped back and firmly closed the bathroom door.
This ghost was going to become a serious issue. This must have been why Pearl was set on edge when she found herself alone. Coral tried to recall a time in the last month if she had mentioned anything about ghosts. She dug her fingernails into the bed of her hands, fists clenching and releasing as she tried to bring any part of their conversation forward.
Pearl had never said anything. She had wanted to share a bedroom, and rarely was Coral left to her own devices within the confines of the manor. If they were outside Pearl was significantly more relaxed. Pearl had been by her side whenever she could.
Coral sighed. Her duty as an older sister was becoming lax. She had been so caught up in making a new life for herself, that she had waylaid her sisters’ behaviours. Well, not anymore. She would let Pearl sleep with her at night, and if Coral were to ignore the fact that she herself didn’t want to sleep in her own bed any longer, that could all be pushed under the rug.
She would find a way to remove the ghost and keep her sister safe at Moonflower Inn. This was her home now, and she wouldn’t let anyone, dead or not, get in the way of that. Annoyingly, Coral found herself somewhat thankful that Caspian Acheron was currently residing in the manor, as it provided a brief interlude for Coral to come up with some sort of plan to deal with the dead pervert. Pearl could be preoccupied with being moon-eyed by the pretty man, even if it did put a twist in Coral’s undergarments.
A quick rap at her door made Coral squeak in surprise. Pearl swung the bedroom door open.
“Coral, are you decent? The Doctor has requested an audience with you.”
“Oh, uh. Yes, I just need to get dressed. Actually,” Coral hurried to collect some clothes without actually looking at what she was selecting from the wardrobe and said “I saw a big mouse in here earlier, so I’ll dress in your room.”
Doctor Thornheart was waiting in the salon, which Coral was quickly becoming inclined to name ‘The winter Salon’ due to that was where she and Pearl had often found themselves relaxing at the beginning of the winter equinox. Coral adjusted her dress, a frilly affair that she had stuffed into her trunk from when she was under the control of her father. The dress was a peach-coral colour, matching her name but not in personality. She intended to remove all frills from its outer layer, to reveal the silk cloth beneath which was much more flattering on her. Coral suited smooth, slick lines. Frills did not offer her anything other than to look like an overstuffed pillow.
Her hair was still wet, though thankfully it no longer dripped down her back. Pearl had retied it into a coronet and had tucked in a white moonflower to adorn the braid. Coral felt overly dressed, considering Doctor Thornheart was wearing a sensible blouse and high waisted skirt in shades of dark blues.
It was with only a smile that she was able to hide her embarrassment as she walked into the salon. Doctor Thornheart was sipping on a cup of tea that Pearl had procured for her from one of the fine porcelain tea-sets found in the manor. Caspian Acheron sat across from Doctor Thornheart on the chaise, looking significantly healthier. There was some colour returned to his pale skin, though his dark eyes still had that sheen of deep red to them.
“I’ll cut to the chase Lady Seaver,” Doctor Thornheart said briskly as Coral set herself down comfortably on a single chair. Pearl chose to stand behind her, hands clasped demurely.
“Caspian Acheron will need several days of bedrest to fully recover. It would be best that he did not move and certainly not to travel. Even if Master Acheron were to return home, he would jeopardize all that I have done for him today.”
“It is my request that he remain in your hospitality until I am certain he is able bodied enough to return to his estate.”
“Of course,” Caspian Acheron said, interrupting Doctor Thornheart, “Miss Pearl has advised that you are in the beginning stages of opening an Inn. I would be much obliged to pay for my lodging throughout my stay.”
Coral would have allowed the man to stay rent free, having fell on her doorstep in such an unfortunate state. She was not cold-blooded. Caspian Acheron’s offer to pay set her at ease, knowing that there would be some further benefit that he could serve other than distracting Pearl.
“You are welcome for as long as you require a room.” Coral said to Mister Acheron. “I’m sure you will find your stay most comfortable.”
Coral hoped at the very least. She focused her attention back on to Doctor Thornheart, determined not to let her eyes drift up to the ceiling and back in the direction of her haunted bathroom.
“While Mister Acheron will be staying here, you will need to know a few of his requirements to ensure his recovery. He is at the moment very sensitive to sunlight.”
Coral thought this was an odd statement, considering he was sitting here in the salon with the curtains thrown wide open. His back was mere feet from the window. As though this thought were written across her face, Mister Acheron said “Bright direct light, I should specify. My eyes are sensitive.”
“We will keep the curtains drawn for you then,” Pearl said. “This is a simple enough request.”
“He must also rest. I know he has a penchant to not listen to my medical advice, so I must insist that he not move around too much. No heavy lifting, and he is to keep that arm of his strapped to his chest until I return to inspect how it is coming along.” Doctor Thornheart said. Her words were directed at Coral and Pearl; however, she was giving a hard look at Mister Acheron as she said them. Mister Acheron was unfazed by the Doctor’s hard stare.
“We wouldn’t dare enquire Mister Acheron do any physical work. As he said, he is now a paying guest.” Coral assured her.
“Thank you,” Doctor Thornheart said. “I feel a little more assured to keep him under a watchful eye.”
“I do not require coddling,” Mister Acheron said mildly.
“Under no circumstances. No physical activity other than walking.” Doctor Thornheart said, ignoring him. She sipped from her tea. “Lastly, and this is more for your benefit rather than Mister Acherons, give him something to do that keeps him in his seat.”
“Sirona, you’ve gone too far.” Mister Acheron snapped.
“I doubt that” she said mildly, then sipped her tea again. “I say all of this, as Mister Acheron had procured some rare ingredients I required. Unfortunately, they were on his horse on his return home. I will be searching for said ingredients in the hope that the wolves haven’t eaten them. Mister Acheron, whilst noble in his efforts, is not in any condition to return for them. Please do not let him convince you otherwise.”
Mister Acheron began to protest, though before more than a few disgruntled words were said, Doctor Thornheart spoke over the top of him.
“I can take care of myself, thank you. While I appreciate that you have gone to a great deal of effort and risk to yourself to get them, I won’t allow you to parade through the woods injured. That’s just ridiculous.”
Mister Acheron clenched his jaw.
“He likes numbers,” she told Pearl. With that, she drained the last of her cup and got to her feet. “I’ll be back in two days’ time. I won’t be going alone so please say nothing, Caspian.” She gave him a sharp look.
“It was lovely to meet you both, Coral and Pearl. I hope you find Direwood to be, well, homely I suppose. Take care.” She bobbed her head in goodbye, and Coral walked her to the entrance hall.
“Before you go, Doctor,” Coral said, stepping through the entrance door. Doctor Thornheart took one look at the dreary sky then swept her cloak up from her bag, now looking significantly less full, and fixed it about her shoulders. Coral made sure to close the door so that her words couldn’t travel back to the salon. Though now that she was here, she felt awkward in the wake of this sensible woman. Coral breathed in, and then changed her question altogether.
“Mister Orvil Norwood, is he really your associate?”
“He is my alchemist and while he has the manners of an irritable old man, he is very good at what he does.” Doctor Thornheart said.
“Oh, right. And is he likely to charge extra should I need to purchase anything?” Coral asked.
“I should think not. I don’t take kindly to taking advantage of people like that. Though I won’t put it past him to try.”
Coral stood on the ornate landing, her tongue twisting in her mouth to form the words that she wasn’t sure she really wanted to ask. Doctor Thornheart looked at her expectantly. Coral stared at her, and if she hadn’t spent years of training not to do so, she would have been twisting the frills brushing at her fingertips.
“Is there anything else?” Doctor Thornheart prompted.
“Earlier,” Coral began, her voice hesitant. She turned and looked at the intricate carvings on the entrance door and decided that she would be very silly not to ask. “When Elwin said that a necromancer had occupied this manor. How long ago exactly was that?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe fifteen years or so.” Doctor Thornheart said.
“Do you know anything about what happened? Do you know if they left on their own, or perhaps they were caught?” Coral prompted, hoping for any hint at what had happened here in the past. It was likely that the reason for the ghost was because of a necromancer. Natural hauntings do happen, but with death magic about it was almost certain that it was linked.
Doctor Thornheart shook her head. “I wasn’t here at the time. I’ve only been in Direwood for five years now. I wouldn’t dream of moving, it’s too entertaining here. Odd,” she said thoughtfully. “I never thought I would say that about a small town. But there you are.”
“Oh,” Coral said, a little disheartened.
Doctor Thornheart must have read this because she tsked at her. “You should speak to the Adventurer’s guild should you have any concerns. I only really know that they swept the place clean of anything that would be dangerous.”
“I will, thank you.” Coral said, a little brighter. That was a good idea, though she didn’t know how exactly she would arrange such a meeting.
“If you’re ever in town, call in to see me. If, that is, I’m not away on a house call.” Doctor Thornheart said. “But I really must be going now.”
Coral bobbed a polite curtsey and watched as Doctor Thornheart lifted her cloak’s hood over her head, stepped lightly down the steps, along the driveway and to the front gates. A gentle wind ruffled her dress, and Coral shivered as it cut through the material.
It had been a most eventful morning, and more so for one still suffering from the after affects of alcohol. The front garden, if Coral could call it that, it was more of a wilderness even at this point, was awash in blue and white flowers. She took a moment for herself and envisioned the future she had sought out.
The manor would cut a striking figure in amongst the forest, walls clean and mended, windows gleaming in the sunlight. The manicured garden filled with more than just Moonflowers, though they would remain in abundance. Briefly Coral pictured tall, colourful snapdragon flowers, and pictured Pearl selecting a few to cut. Her new home would be charming, and patrons would be chuckling merrily as they thanked her for their time staying in her most beautiful inn.
There was a clatter, and Coral looked up just in time to see a few roof tiles fall to the ground from the west wing. Her vision dissipated quickly. She had a long way to go. This of all things didn’t deter her. She looked forward to the challenge if this was what her freedom cost her. Renovations and hangover’s notwithstanding, she turned on her heel and went inside, looking for a piece of cake to sweeten her mood.
Pearl’s tinkling laugh spilled from the salon as she walked through the entrance hall and down the corridor to the kitchen. It was nice, hearing her sister laugh. She was interrupted quite abruptly as the hall table’s draw slid open and caught her hip. Wincing, she shoved the draw forcefully back into the table, paused, then slid it open again. There, scratched at the bottom of the wood was the word BASEMENT.
“Stop it,” she hissed. “I’m much too busy to go there,” she said aloud. Coral didn’t need to say that she didn’t want to go down to the basement. She wasn’t brave enough for that just yet.
“I’m sorry?” Pearl asked from behind her. Coral started, not expecting her sister to be there, Mister Acheron by her side. She hadn’t noticed them following her. They had walked so quietly that she hadn’t heard them.
“Never mind,” Coral said, pushing the draw firmly shut. If she recalled correctly from her fuzzy memories, this was the second time the draw had tried to trip her up. She was going to glue the draw in if it did it again. Then she wouldn’t need to see vague messages.
“Mister Acheron has requested a tour of the inn,” Pearl explained.
Coral hesitated at this. The manor was still in disrepair. If anything, Coral wanted to be proud of her home, not ashamed.
“I did explain that we have only been here a month,” Pearl continued, interpreting Coral’s hesitance correctly.
“I’ve always admired this building from afar. I had wanted to purchase this estate myself. I would love to explore.” Mister Acheron explained. “I’m well aware of what unfortunate state it has fallen into, though I’ve never entered the building itself.
“You wanted to purchase it?” Coral asked surprised.
Mister Acheron nodded. “I would if I had the opportunity. The estate would never have been sold to me, regardless. I’m grateful that ownership has been taken up by capable ladies such as yourselves.”
Pearl blushed and looked away to hide her cheeks.
Coral raised an eyebrow at Mister Acheron, “Flattery, Mister Acheron, will only get you a piece of cake,” she told him.