The Shadow Princess- Part 3

Miss Genevieve was the sensible sort who did not believe in phantoms, spooks or things which went bump in the night, so the overwhelming sense of unease while entering the house caught her unawares. The young man answering the door was no more than thirty, pale and wiry as if he'd spent much of his life in a sick bed. He appeared genuinely happy to have a guest intrude upon his solitude, the smile on his thin lips enhancing his prominent hawkish features, skin pulled taut. He introduced himself as Stephen, Miss Matilda's great nephew, recently having competed his studies at Cambridge. Although Miss Genevieve was exceptionally well read, she never traveled. At the age of twenty-five she had barely been beyond the borders of the state in which she was born. It was for this reason she assumed she found Stephen oddly enthralling, hanging on his every word as he chatted about life abroad. The hour grew late, the sun sinking below the horizon, and Miss Genevieve reluctantly excused herself, promising her host she'd return to continue their delightful conversation. It was once she was on the forest road she noticed a weight lifting from her shoulders as if something in the house had been wrapped around her, quietly smothering her. Another bizarre detail struck her as strange. Every mirror was covered by a heavy, dark cloth; every picture frame turned face down. Not one reflective surface had she seen. Very odd, she thought to herself, making a mental note to ask Stephen about it when next they met.