The Ostenton family estate was not large, yet it bore an air of elegant refinement. Several slender birch trees gently swayed their branches in the courtyard, their shadows trembling beneath the wamp lantern light, while pots of pale orchids rested beneath the windows, their fragrance faint yet strangely soothing.
At a glance, one could tell this was a household of cultivated taste.
When Caelith stepped through the gate, an elderly man with graying hair was already waiting at the entrance to the main hall.
The moment he saw her, his eyes reddened at once. "Miss Emberlyn!"
He hurried forward, grasping her hands, his gaze moving over her as though to assure himself she was real.
"A good child… such a good child… at last, I am able to see you."
Caelith felt a trace of embarrassment beneath his earnest scrutiny.
"Lord Ostenton, please… you need not—"
But the old gentleman shook his head, his watery eyes frantically scanning her beautiful face.
