Dearest Companion
From the diary of Lucy Deveroux, Duchess of Blackthorn:
I cannot tell whether Poe is a comfort or a curse.
He speaks as if from some deeper knowledge, though his words come cloaked in verse and madness.
Earlier, he knocked three times, slow and patient, as if to summon me toward the one place I had been forbidden to go.
I tell myself it was only a coincidence. But what if it wasn’t?
What if something behind that door wishes to be found?
What if they are hiding something there?
I cannot help but feel it calls to me the way the sea might call to a drowning soul.
I will not write more tonight. The candle burns low, and I think I hear footsteps in the corridor again. Sylum is expecting me for supper.
If anyone should read these words, remember this: Something strange is happening at Blackthorn Manor. Perhaps it is only my imagination or the unease of being thrust beneath an unfamiliar roof. I admit, it is a feeling more than fact, but believe me. I cannot prove this just yet, but I will. —L