The Rogue Legacy

Follow-up from the last Shadownight Legacy. SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, this is going to be awesome! :o

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67. 46 - A Log Entry by a Manor Grounds-Keep

 The Shadownight Manor had been quiet for some time since the departure of Miss Queenie and later Master Simon and Miss Rebecca, but today I am told that Master Simon and Miss Rebecca will return. Miss Queenie, I know, is staying in one of the guest-houses at the moment, outside of the Manor itself, she arrived very late last night. I didn't question her presence - far be it from me to do such a thing - but she asked for me to open the guest-house because she did not wish to disturb her family members, who would have been asleep. She entered the Manor in the morning.

 Oh, what a dreadful morning.

 I watched as Master Simon and Miss Rebecca walked up the road to the Manor with a large man in the their keeping - who I have just been informed is the famous Señor Miguel Cortés, a Spanish explorer. They chatted in a cheerful manner until I opened the large brass gates for them and let them in. Master Simon nodded his head to me in greeting and parted with a few coins at my expense. I doubt he even knew my name, but he and the elder residents at Shadownight Manor seemed to be the only people who even noticed me. Not that it mattered - Mrs Rogue paid me handsomely on a weekly basis, as did Mr Rogue, and I am capable of living a luxurious life on my own - but it was nice to be regarded as more than just a prop.

 They passed the stable-keeps and the gardeners, walking all the way up to the Manor's large oak doors and knocked upon them. Mrs Shadownight answered the door - so old and frail compared to Mrs Rogue - but she was teary-eyed and dejected. I wondered briefly if this was due to their return, but no. Mrs Shadownight pulled Master Simon into an embrace and held him there for a long while.
“Aunt Georgia, what's the matter? Has something happened?” I heard him ask.
 The words she said to him next made me take the hat from my head and place it upon my chest.
 Oh, how unpredictable this fickle life is.

“Oh, Aldrin,” she sobbed quietly, “I don't know how to tell you this, but... Your father has been murdered.”

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