Marla
As I led Maurice down the narrow staircase into the depths of our mansion's basement, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation coursing through me. This chamber, hidden away from prying eyes, held the secrets of my craft—sorcery and witchcraft that had been passed down through generations.
Maurice's eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as she took in the sight of the dimly lit room. The walls were lined with shelves adorned with various bottles of plants and herbs, their fragrances mingling in the air. I watched her expression closely, knowing that this was the first time she had been granted access to my secret sanctum.
I made my way to the center of the room where a long table stood, its surface cluttered with tools and ingredients. With a sense of purpose, I reached for a thi
