As the door began to open itself, Violet waited politely, though she wasn't surprised. This was her mother's castle, after all. She looked inside and was utterly unsurprised to see no one at all. The old stone floor was covered with a dusty rug and the walls with antique tapestries. There were many doors in the room, and a grand set of stairs at the other end, that split in two halfway up. She walked in and stroked a tapestry with a hand. It left dark marks on her fingers, but she didn't mind. There was so much history here, so many generations of ancestors here to welcome her. In fact, there was one now.
It took all of her nerve to keep her appearance of gothic wistfullness when she realised that she had seen a translucent white ghost appear before her very eyes. She couldn't keep her voice from cracking with a mixture of fear and delight as she spoke:
"Greetings, oh, spirit of restful death. What doth such a shade ask of their humble mortal brethren?"
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