The doors moan in agony, opposed to the hands prying them open. The moment she enters, dust blows into her face. Katarina scowls, scrubbing her nose with an arm. She walks, as light as her steps allow her, not daring to disturb the grave silence of the manor.
Few know of this place, and even fewer have the privilege of seeing who resides in this desolate part of the capital. Katarina wonders how, after all these years, it continues to elude even the sharpest eyes. Many have tried to find it, but to no avail.