Mirehaven Drellwick House’s Hidden Parlour Hours

Crossing into the parlour of Mirehaven Drellwick House, one feels the air thicken around softened upholstery seams and half-collapsed cushions. Dust swirls faintly at ankle height, catching the lamplight in slow, drifting specks. The scent of cooled tea, wool, and old paper lingers, pressed into every fold of cloth.

Nothing here gestures outward; all movement has recessed into the interior hush.

The Quiet, Measured World of Lysandra Mae Drellwick

Lysandra Mae Drellwick, a private tutor of arithmetic and household writing, once maintained these rooms with reserved care. She lived here with her younger sister Eltha, whose chronic fatigue often kept her confined to the inner chambers. Lysandra arranged the lesson room with chalk slates, columns of practice sheets, pencil stubs grouped by grade, and small tins of dried ink. Her habits were meticulous—folding linens twice, aligning pencils along the grain of the desk, and pacing the same corridor loop whenever expenses weighed on her. As Eltha’s illness deepened, tutoring appointments waned. Lamps burned lower. Stacks of uncorrected exercises grew. Domestic order loosened thread by thread until every corner bore the impression of work deferred beyond recovery.

The Hall Where Routines First Began to Slip

In the east hall, Lysandra’s shoes sit angled outward, laces stiff. A lamp chimney lies cracked beside a dust rag she dropped during a coughing fit from Eltha’s room. A stack of student notebooks rests against the wall, corners curling and pages untouched.

The Scullery Where Domestic Rhythm Faltered

Inside the scullery, mismatched mugs gather a thin grey film. A kettle, crusted along its rim, stands beside a cooling stone once used to steady trembling hands. A linen towel, once folded precisely, hangs in slack, uneven drapes.

At the landing’s far edge rests Lysandra’s final lesson plan, smudged, half-written, and weighted by a shawl she never lifted again. Eltha’s handkerchief droops from the banister rail, untouched. Mirehaven Drellwick House settles further into its own interior gravity, its rooms dimming inward, indefinitely abandoned.