//CLARA//
"Would you mind telling me what the hell happened?"
Casimir's voice was a dangerous rumble that seemed to vibrate the floorboards of the study.
He didn't look like he'd just come home from a journey. He looked like he'd marched straight into hell, decided it wasn't hot enough, and clawed his way back out just to burn this house to the ground.
God, he was massive. The rugged, unkempt beard and the thick layer of trail dust clinging to his coat made him look broader, heavier than the polished, untouchable man who'd walked away from me. He consumed the entire study. He looked lethal.
Across from him, Aunt Cornelia was a statue of spite. She sat rigid, her spine a straight line of pure arrogance, her chin tilted at that sharp, defiant angle she used when she was ready to draw blood.
