The sharp rap of knuckles on wood echoed through the house, sending a chill down Matilda's spine. She took a deep breath, smoothing her features into a mask of cool indifference before reaching for the door handle.
As the door swung open, Lord Blackthorn's imposing figure filled the frame. His silver hair gleamed in the moonlight, his piercing eyes fixed upon her with an intensity that threatened to shatter her composure.
"Wife," he said, the word dripping with a mixture of authority and disdain.
Matilda inclined her head slightly, her voice steady as she replied, "Lord Blackthorn. To what do I owe this... unexpected visit?"
Blackthorn's gaze swept over her, then past her into the house. "I find myself curious, my dear, as to why you've chosen to abandon our palatial mansion for this... crude kiosk."
'Stay calm,' Matilda thought, her heart racing despite her outward stillness. 'Give nothing away.'
