The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured gardens of Lockwood Manor as Eleanor, Michael, and Seraphina huddled in a secluded corner, their voices low and urgent.
"A private meeting with the Council," Eleanor muttered, frustration lacing her tone. "They act as if we're children to be scolded, despite returning from a perilous mission."
Seraphina, ever the pragmatist, offered a skeptical shrug. "Perhaps that's exactly how they see us now. Missing for a year, disrupting the established order. It wouldn't be the first time the Council viewed outsiders with suspicion."
Michael, his usually carefree demeanor replaced by a frown, chimed in. "But Barnaby… how could he simply relinquish his position? Doesn't that strike you as odd?"
Eleanor nodded, voicing the concern that gnawed at them all. "There's more to this than they're letting on. The Council's sudden power grab, Barnaby's resignation… it all feels orchestrated."
