Chapter 89: Blood of Gorthmorde
"We should return," he said quietly. "The mana fluctuation from this hill did not go unnoticed. They will all be waiting for you."
Hannah nodded, her jaw tightening.
She knew exactly what awaited her inside.
The carriage ride back was silent, heavy with unspoken tension.
By the time they stepped through the main doors of the Gorthmorde mansion, the atmosphere had turned sharp and suffocating.
Servants lingered in the hallways, their eyes darting toward her, whispers dying the moment she passed.
Maids curtsied lower than before, but their expressions were wary, uncertain. The entire household felt like a taut bowstring, ready to snap.
And in the main receiving hall, they were all waiting.
Jonathan stood near the door, his face pale with anxiety, his usual gentle composure shattered.
Several distant relatives and noble candidates lingered by the fireplace, their postures stiff, their gazes cold and probing.
