Grimfall
In a dimly lit chamber, the flickering glow of candles danced upon the stone walls, casting eerie shadows across the gathered figures. A circle of maids sat in silent conspiracy, each one holding a candle stand, their expressions wavering between amusement, anticipation, and guilt.
Bess, the one with a stern ponytail, spoke first, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of uncertainty. "The Young Master has changed again. Do you all think he is an imposter? Because I sure do."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the circle—all except one. Laura, her disfigured features twisted with restrained frustration, remained unmoved by the sentiment. She clenched her fists, her eyes burning with defiance. "You are all morons. The one now is the real one. The previous one was the imposter."
