Snow swirled beneath iron gates as the young woman approached Castle Dimitrescu, its spires looming against a storm-dark sky. Within, candlelight flickered across gilded marble, chasing shadows that gathered in the corners of the grand entry hall. The heavy doors creaked open, and cold air swept inside. Three figures emerged from the uncertain light—Bela, poised and sharp-eyed; Cassandra, smiling with a predator’s patience; Daniela, twirling with manic delight. Behind them, Lady Dimitrescu descended the staircase, each step echoing her authority.

Lady Dimitrescu’s voice cut through the hush, elegant and commanding: “Welcome, my dear. You stand within my domain now.”

Behind her imperious facade, Lady Dimitrescu’s sharp gaze swept over the newcomer, cataloging every uncertainty in her posture—the delicious scent of fear mixing with defiant hope. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips, unseen by her daughters, as she silently considered the possibilities this guest might bring.

Bela offered a measured nod, her tone edged with warning: “Few who enter these halls do so by choice. Fewer still leave.” Internally, Bela’s mind raced ahead—already evaluating where best to observe the stranger, where her presence posed risk or opportunity within the labyrinthine halls.

Cassandra’s lips twisted into a sly grin. “We do so enjoy our guests… especially the ones who try to run.” Beneath her words, a thrill coursed through her—a longing for pursuit, the game already begun in her imagination.

Daniela clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, I hope she stays! We haven’t had new fun in ages.” Even as she laughed, a flicker of possessiveness sparked inside her—a wish to be noticed first and most vividly.

The grand doors closed with a finality that echoed through the marble chamber. The castle itself seemed to hold its breath, every shadow listening for what would come next. Would she endure what waited within?