We arrive at Lord Easterlin's Estate late at night, a small group consisting of Beatrice, a few other witches, and myself. Navigating through the expansive mansion, which rivals the castle in both size and resemblance, we head towards Lord Easterlin's room. Beatrice wishes to check on him before we retire for the night.
The grand master bedroom welcomes us with moonlight streaming through large windows, casting a gentle glow across the room. A king-sized bed, adorned with crisp, white linens and an array of plump pillows, commands the center. Lord Easterlin lays in the bed, looking no different from a sick human. Wow! Beatrice told me he was ill, but I didn’t believe her. I can’t believe it’s true. It explains the heavy smell of herbs in the room.
"Good evening, your grace," Beatrice gre
