Granted, it was only one of the doors, and barely cracked open—the narrow gap was just wide enough for someone of a slighter build to squeeze through.

The necromancer nervously checked the feather—still in place, she hadn't gone anywhere. Besides, the lingering energy of death was palpable enough to confirm the undead was still inside. Then what was this? Traces of a failed escape attempt? Opening the entrance from the inside took practically no effort.

He couldn't scan the building; the family wards interfered. He could just stand there guessing what had happened until evening, so instead, he squeezed inside, casting an aversion charm in advance. The undead could typically only perceive magic as a concentrated force; she wouldn't even notice such simple manipulations.

However, an entirely unexpected sight awaited Emil in the crypt. Beside the coffin, its lid now closed, stood a teenager. The necromancer lay low, studying the stranger. He looked about fourteen or fifteen, dressed in an Academy uniform—another amateur eager to raise dead noblewomen? Necromancers were practically flocking to this girl in droves.

The boy turned away from the coffin as if ashamed of something, and Emil felt a twinge of guilt for his own thoughts. From this angle, the resemblance to the deceased was clear. The same slightly upturned nose, a similar shape to the eyes, the high cheekbones. One of the relatives had lost their patience and come to say goodbye one last time.

"Forgive me, Noemi," the teenager sniffled, hurrying toward the exit and wiping his cheeks with his shirt sleeve as he went. Emil managed to catch a glimpse of him placing something on the coffin lid.

The necromancer stepped aside to avoid colliding with the boy. The kid slipped through the narrow gap, and then the mechanism triggered; the doors slid back into place, cutting the crypt off from the outside world once more.

The torches had burned out by morning, plunging the burial chamber into darkness. The necromancer refrained from conjuring a magelight, wanting to see what the undead would do now that she was alone. Had she actually climbed into the coffin and covered herself with the lid on her own when her little visitor dropped by?

"Hey!" the shout was muffled by the wooden boards. "I can smell you! Get over here."

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