Meanwhile, on the other side, Aliya glided through the grand hacienda-like estate, her heels clicking softly against the marble, echoing down the empty hallways like distant drums of doom. Ornate arches framed her silhouette as she passed, and golden light from the setting sun bathed the halls in a burnished glow that did nothing to warm the air.
The hallways echoed because of the absence of the usual bustling of workers coming and going. In the months that Aliya had instated herself as mistress of the Thornston estate, the place had continued to dwindle, and the workers had kept on 'disappearing.'
No one wanted to be alone in the hallways, lest they meet 'that woman' and their end!
Aliya paused briefly to admire the sprawling courtyard beyond the arched windows… the garden, the fountains, the symmetry of wealth that now answered to her whims.
