Elsa
The dining room was simple, almost plain, yet around us, every wall held a strange array of weapons. Swords, axes, shields, and knives of all sizes were mounted everywhere, like a gallery of battles long past. I couldn’t help but feel a chill as my eyes traced the shapes of these artifacts—sharp, gleaming reminders of lives lived on the edge. It was so different from the warmth I felt in my belly, a stark contrast to the new life growing inside me.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Renfield,” Camelia said warmly, her eyes drawn to my rounded belly. She gave me a look, a bit shy but also eager. “Would it be alright if I touched?”
A strange feeling washed over me—part excitement, part discomfort. This was all still new to me, the awe people showed, the way they seemed to almost revere this life
