Amelia led Elizabeth through the silent corridors of the Ainsworth mansion with calm, steady steps, one hand discreetly supporting the vampire's elbow to ensure she didn't falter. The east corridor was different from the rest of the house—more secluded, more isolated from the main flow. The walls were lined with polished dark wood, carved with almost imperceptible patterns that, to untrained eyes, seemed merely decoration. But Elizabeth felt it. Each carving carried magic. Protection. Ancient seals against physical and spiritual invasions.
The lighting was soft, emanating from crystal lamps attached to the walls, whose golden light warmed the room without hurting her sensitive eyes. It was strange to walk there. Too strange not to be running. Not to be fleeing. Not to be hearing footsteps behind her.
She only realized she was holding her breath when Amelia spoke gently:
"You can breathe. No one will attack you here."
Elizabeth exhaled slowly, almost embarrassed.
