She tilted her head back to look up into the sky, and it truly seemed to her like a day where nothing would go wrong. âI hope not. What with winter finally leaving⊠I thought we were finally getting a bit of good weather.â Alice made a face. âI like- I like the rain, but Iâm terrified of storms. Isnât very good for the violin, too. Excessive moisture, sudden drop in temperatureâŠâ
Luluâs words made her feel slightly chilled, but she nodded. Stories, rumors, worries, they were whispered at night among everyone in the servantsâ quarters; and though Alice didnât believe the majority of them, Ostcliffe wore around its shoulders a strange aura.Â
âItâs as if- itâs as if the castle is holding its breath.â
Lulu hadnât looked into how far off the ship had run into the storm, but thunderstorms meant all royal events were either postponed or moved into the castle; that meant less walking for her.
âI guess I just like how it restricts the workflow.â She laughed. âEspecially the bad storms. The Queenâs hair frizzes in the humidity.â She said, in bad stage whisper.
âThatâs an interesting way to put it.â Lulu said, as her hair whipped with the ocean breeze. The castle breathing, the walls oozing and listening and scheming. âMaybe weâre wrong to antrhopomorphize the castle like this.â












