The Shadows of Haverstone Manor
Triggering the machine without preparation was reckless, bordering on catastrophic, but perhaps it could still serve Vivienne’s purposes.
She glanced at the faint reflection in the polished surface of a nearby mirror, her gaze lingering on her own features. Sharp cheekbones, dark eyes that betrayed no fear. She had spent years preparing for this moment, navigating her uncle’s cryptic games and unraveling his web of secrets. Everything Lord Haverstone had left behind—the journal, the device, even the medallion—was part of a larger design. But unlike Emma, Vivienne understood the stakes. She was no pawn. She was a queen, ready to seize the board.
Bab Populer