Chapter 59: Chapter 59: Epilogue

Not a sound could be heard throughout the whole of Southbend Manor. Of course, this was not unusual. The locals that farmed the outskirts of Belgrave used to say that even the ghosts of the manor had long since packed up and moved on to greener pastures. According to popular belief, not a single soul had graced those decaying walls in a hundred years.

Yet in the deepest part of the manor, past silent and winding halls, ten women were currently seated around a large, circular table. The room they were in had two large windows, but they were draped with velvet curtains so thick that they blocked out nearly every trace of light.

The women all wore veils which obscured their mouths. Their eyes shone out of the bluish semi-gloom, watching one another warily.

“So,” one of them said at last, breaking the silence, “it has come to this, at last, then. Our puppet has had his strings cut.”